Impossible Princess
by deConstruction
Summary: [Sequel to All That Glitters] These are the dreams of an Impossible Princess. Believer in truth, defendant of lies. To be lost and found again and again. Please R&R!
1. The Impossible Princess

_**A/N: **_**Alright, so I didn't plan to post this as quickly as I have. As is often the way with any of my sequels. But after the strength of the reviews that I had for the final chapter of **_**All That Glitters**_**, I figured as a thank you to everyone I'd post this story for you now.**

**Now, whilst I say it is a sequel to _All That Glitters_, it isn't in the truest sense. Confused? Read the chapter, and you'll see what I mean. **

**I try to write each story as a stand-alone and not refer back to much to the previous three stories, so you don't have to have read the first three in order to read this, especially with this one. But if you want a background on what these characters have been through, check out _Follow Me Home, Some Kind of Bliss _and _All That Glitters_. **

**Reviews are welcomed and very much encouraged, like I even need to say it. If you don't like something I write, please be constructive with your comments. I'm always open to feedback both positive and negative. As long as it's respectful, I'm cool.**

**I disclaim. I don't own any of the names you recognise from this story (other than OCs). If I did, I'd be as rich as Mr. Vincent Kennedy McMahon, and would probably on a cruise ship somewhere surrounded by buff scantily clad boys. The title and summary has been inspired by the album of the same name, Impossible Princess by Kylie Minogue.**

**I'm kinda loathe to give dedications because I value everyone who reads my stories. But I would like to dedicate this story to a friend and part-time mentor of mine, the awesome talent that is Queen of Kaos.**

**So enough of my nonsense. Here is Chapter One for your reading enjoyment. Please read and review :)**

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"I am telling you, Mr. Scott is a total fascist dictator. How dare he give me a B+ on my essay. How freaking dare he!"

With a grunt of anger, quite reminiscent of her father, Riley Kendall Orton wrenched open her locker. Her fingers tensed to a pale white, she gripped the door tightly in one hand, as the other slung in the books she had been holding beneath her arm. Reaching into her bag, she took a final look at the offending paper before screwing it into a ball and tossing it inside.

At two weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, Riley Orton had matured into a vivacious and beautiful young woman. Call it good genetics, but she had the luxury of beauty _and_ intelligence. From her father, she had inherited her stunning good looks, which had been tempered by the soft Grecian features of her mother. Indeed, her warm chocolate brown eyes were a mirror for those of her mother. The two orbs were set against naturally tanned skin, peering inquisitively out from a set of thick lashes.

Riley's body was full and in the first of flush adulthood. Just a little taller than her mother, her body was toned and defined just as her fathers' was, with never-ending curves inherited from her mother. A round but pert behind was equally matched by a pair of full breasts, usually exposed to their fullest in a tight fitting baby-tees.

Riley was clearly the daughter of Randy and Trish Orton. She had the enviable mix of animal magnetism and model looks of her father, softened by her mother's girl-next-door charm and keen intellect. It was no secret that Riley was beautiful, nor that she was lusted after by many of her peers and older again. She was the young woman every girl wanted be, and the potential vixen every young man wanted to be with.

However, as well as her looks, she had a distinct morality to her that couldn't be shaken by over-zealous teenage boys and keg parties. Riley was by no means a 'good girl', but she was sensible. Her parents trusted her to behave herself, and the trust wasn't misplaced. It seemed Riley had a good future set out in front of her. Even the world itself. She simply had to extent her perfect manicured fingers and take whatever she wanted. And what did the girl, daughter of two of the most famous names in the Sports Entertainment, want right now?

To slam her History teacher's face against her locker, and _RKO_ his ass on the floor.

Her full pink lips pouted as she slammed the door shut to her locker. Whipping her head around, her caramel blonde hair danced in a complete arc around her shoulders as she glanced at her best friend.

Melody James was about as opposite to Riley as any person could be. Her stick thin body was never anything other than exposed. Favouring low cut tops and short skirts, she was forever finding herself in the Principal's office for how she was dressed. And that wasn't the least of Melody's questionable behaviour.

She smoked, she drank, and she stayed out all night and had probably seen more of the school's football team in the buff than their locker-room had. A wild child, her features were undeniably beautiful. She had the look of high fashion model. Her face was all angles and sultry stares, buried by a thick mane of dark hair and rich cherry-red lips. Melody despised the sun, and despite living in California, somehow managed to keep a perfect porcelain complexion.

Where Riley was the beautiful girl next door, Melody was a stunning future model.

And however opposite the two girls may have appeared, they were the best of friends. Their friendship had started almost five years ago, when Riley had moved to California. Riley had been assigned Melody as her partner during a Chemistry lesson on her first day. After an experiment with magnesium ended with their Bunsen burner nearly exploding, the girls had never been separate again. It might have been unlikely, but they had an unbreakable bond, not least because of their aversion to science. Perhaps the fact that they balanced each other's personality was one of the reasons they had remained friends for as long as they had.

And in true friend fashion, Melody screwed up perfect narrow nose at Riley's agitation. "Come on Riley. You did liken Nazi Germany to a typical American High School." Melody sniggered softly as she reapplied a thick layer of lip-gloss over her lips. "He was just towing the party line. I don't think any teacher thinks of themselves as a _Totalitarian Autocrat_."

Riley grunted again in displeasure as the pair headed away from the locker. "That's so not the issue here. Just because he disagreed with what I wrote, doesn't make me wrong. He's a teacher. He's supposed to encourage individual creativity, not suppress it. The man is just proving my point for me."

"I think somebody needs a beer." Melody chuckled, linking arms with her best friend. Heading along the corridor, the pair were stopped by several students. As two of the most popular girls in school, they were constantly surrounded by hangers-on desperate to appear as _cool _as they were. Riley always thought of Melody as being the '_cool one' _out of the pair. She was always wearing the latest fashion and could name drop celebrities like no-one else Riley knew.

In actual fact, Riley was viewed as the cooler of the two, for the simple fact that she had famous parents. Of course, Melody was the daughter of incredibly wealthy parents, as were the majority of students who came to school there. But no set of parents could hope to be as world-famous like the Orton's were.

But there was no jealous animosity from either girl. They were friends regardless of who they were or where they came from.

If only the same could be said for Savannah Jones-Mackenzie. Described as a rival when it came to the popularity stakes, Savannah was a typical California girl. Barbie-like and utterly false, she wouldn't be caught dead in any outfit if it didn't contain a hint of pink. Describing Paris Hilton as her idol, Savannah wasn't exactly known for her academic achievements. But that did nothing to lessen her draw to the other students. Not to mention her venomous remarks that were often directed towards Riley and Melody.

Riley always assumed that Savannah was jealous of the friendship she shared with Melody. After all, as they said, it was lonely at the top. And that was exactly where you would find Savannah. She was always being voted prom-queen, was Captain of the Cheerleading Squad and had made Student Body President for the third consecutive year. But as popular as she was, she wasn't _liked_ by a single member of her entourage. And it seemed she was destined to take her frustrations out on Riley and Melody.

Glancing up, Riley rolled her eyes as she noted Savannah and her court approaching. "Look out," she murmured to Melody. "My skank-alert is tingling."

Melody chuckled softly to herself as she spotted Savannah approaching. A sneer formed on Savannah's face as she and her entourage stopped in front of the two girls. "Melody, Riley. Fancy seeing you two here."

"That surprises you?" Melody snorted. "We go to the same school Savannah. We see each other everyday."

"Yes well, I just thought I stop and say _hey_. I like to keep in touch with the little people who made me Student Body President. All good leaders should remember who it was that they had to step on to get to the top." Savannah's smile was acidic, as her party behind her cackled amongst one another.

"Savannah," Riley smiled as genuinely as she could, "we all know how well you kept _in touch _with basketball team to make it where you are today. We really couldn't take any of the credit. It was all down to your skills as an orator." Savannah's face fell as she clearly didn't understand the meaning of the word, much less in the insinuation.

One of the people behind her had the sense of pity to explain it to her discreetly. Her face flaring red, she was about to fire back a retort when she was interrupted. From their left, Jeremy Williams bounded into vision. Captain of the football team and Riley's boyfriend of two years, he wasted to time in scooping his girlfriend into his arms. Planting his lips against hers, he took his time in enjoying the taste of her mouth. He only broke the kiss as Savannah tugged on the sleeve of his tee-shirt.

"Hey Jeremy," Savannah cooed, flattering her eyelashes incessantly. It was no secret that Savannah wanted Jeremy. As the Captain of the football team, she saw him as an integral part of her image in the school. Most girls in the year crushed out on Jeremy, but Savannah being the girl she was, was the only one to ever be as blatant about her desire to be with him. Even when that meant throwing herself at the boy right in front of Riley's face.

"You got something in your eye there Savannah?" Jeremy smirked, his arms still firmly around Riley's waist.

Savannah's face fell for a second, before breaking into a high-pitched screech of a laugh. All at once, her lackeys joined in causing Melody to turn towards Riley and make vomiting noises. "Oh Jeremy you're so funny." Savannah purred, blatantly running her fingers down Jeremy's arm. "I thought you'd like to know that I'll be there at your party tonight. I've bought a new dress just for you to see."

"Good for you." Jeremy flashed her a stunning smile, one which her quite literally made the group of girls weak at the knees. Riley could only roll her eyes, burying her face against Jeremy's chest as she tried not to laugh outright.

"Oh yes." Savannah smiled, practically leering at him. "I wouldn't miss your party for the world." With a wink, Savannah waved with her fingers. "See you tonight."

And as quickly as she had come, Savannah was gone, her platinum blonde hair swinging behind her. Unable to hold it anymore, Riley burst into a fit of giggles as Melody shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh god," Jeremy groaned, dropping his head to rest on Riley's shoulder. "Who the hell invited her? I made a point of not inviting anyone in her little group so she wouldn't know about tonight. There go my plans for a great night." Jeremy sighed, pouting his bottom lip. He could already see the night spent with him trying to fend off the advances of an inebriated Savannah.

Falling into step beside her boyfriend, Riley took his hand in her own as she smiled. "Come on Jay, you know Queen Barbie would find out. She's totally got you on Satellite Surveillance. Ten dollars says her boobs fall out of whatever the hell she'll be poured into tonight. Right in front of you, before eleven too. It'll be a total 'accident' of course."

"With her chest?" Melody grinned. "Please girl, you'd have to break out a microscope to see those mosquito bites."

Riley and Melody exchanged devious smiles as Jeremy laughed at the comment. The trio headed out through the main doors to the front of the school. Students were pouring out into the sunshine like ants being smoked out of an ant hill. They were heading for buses and waiting cars or other such transportation to head home. It was Friday, and not a single person could leave fast enough. Saying her goodbyes to Melody, with a promise to head over to her house later to get ready, Riley smirked as her best friend climbed into the waiting car sent by her father. The driver politely waved in Riley's direction, before speeding away into the distance.

Taking the few stone steps downwards towards the front of the school, Jeremy stopped. Resting his hands on Riley's hips, he smiled down at her. "Guess what?" He grinned.

"What?" Riley shrugged her shoulders.

"My parents aren't going to be back until Tuesday night. We've got the whole house to ourselves for the next four nights." With a suggestive smirk, he began running his hands down over Riley's back to cup her buttocks. "Including tonight."

"Jeremy." Riley warned, poking his chest with her fore finger to create distance. "I am not sleeping with you at some lame, beer-filled High School party. That doesn't even rank in the cliché stakes it's so bad. So any thoughts you had of us doing it in your absent parent's room better be kicked to the curb right now."

"Riley," he pouted. Resting his hands on her shoulders, his face became serious. "You know that's not what I meant." Seeing the unconvinced look on her face, he sighed. "Look, I'm not going to say I don't want to sleep with you because I do. I really, really do. You know that."

Looking more unconvinced that ever, Riley responded with a role of her eyes. "What? Is it so wrong that I find my girlfriend sexy? You know I told you I would wait for as long as it takes for you to feel ready. I promise you Riley, this isn't about me pressuring you. This isn't about sex for me, okay? I'm totally in love you Riley. I freely admit I'm utterly whipped. And that means I'm gonna wait till you're sure you want to be with me that way."

"Nice save." Riley smiled, silently touched at her boyfriends' depth of feeling. Riley knew she had it good. Most guys her age would have run a mile when they found out their girlfriend wasn't prepared to put out. And even if they did stick around, they were usually getting their kicks on the side.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him into a lingering kiss. Jeremy leant his head closer, his hands exploring Riley's back. Regardless of where they were, the kiss deepened, with Riley allowing Jeremy's tongue past her lips.

He was an amazing kisser, and never failed to make Riley feel weak with the way he kissed her. It was like time stood still for her, and the entire world just fell away all around them. All that was left was her stud of a boyfriend and the gentle caress of his lips. Even when his hands eased their way into the waist of her low-rising jeans, she made no effort to dislodge them. Riley was far too concerned with taking his breath away with her kiss. It seemed however not everyone shared her wild abandon.

"Oh that is so totally gross. Mom. Make them stop before I blow chunks all over the backseat."

Riley's body immediately tensed in Jeremy's arms, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by him either. He opened his eyes to see Riley staring into his in a blind panic. Her lips frozen into their kiss, they detached from Jeremy's. Fearfully, she turned over her shoulder to be confronted with a near-nightmare.

Resting against the hood of her car, arms folded across her chest, was the bemused face of Trish Orton. Her eyebrow arched on her forehead, it was clear she was less than impressed with what she saw.

Despite her age, Trish easily passed for a woman ten years younger than she actually was. Her combination of Greek heritage and healthy living made her look as youthful as she ever had been during her time with World Wrestling Entertainment. Her eyes were as bright as they had ever been, even with the beginnings of wrinkles stretching out from the corners. Her figure was trim and toned, her breasts firm and full. The waves of her dark blonde hair was pulled back to reveal her near-perfect skin.

Dressed in a simple white shirt and black dress pants, there were few who could match her for raw sex appeal. Indeed, it seemed she improved with age, and was definite 'older woman' fantasy for a lot of teenage boys. A fact that was not lost on Jeremy, as he blushed at being confronted with his girlfriends' smoking hot mother.

Riley was clearly mortified. In the back seat, leering out of the window was the owner of the grossed out voice that had interrupted them to begin with.

Parker Addison Orton, son of Trish and Randy, and younger brother of Riley leered out of the backseat. He was like a younger version of his father. At sixteen years old, his features were already developing into the handsome man he was clearly going to become. With crystal blue eyes to rival those of his father, and his dark brown hair that hung down to his cheek bones, he already had a name for himself as a 'lady-killer'. Indeed, Riley could count the amount of times her younger brother had hit on her friends, much to her own embarrassment.

Resting comfortably through the open window, he smirked at Riley, knowing full well what his mother was thinking.

Riley swallowed in a gulp, waiting for her mother to go off the deep end with her. She stayed silent for a moment longer, before shifting position on her feet. "Jeremy. Be a good boy and get your hands out of my daughter's pants please."

Flushing an intense red, Jeremy did as he was told, standing an arms length away from Riley in the process. "Of course Mrs. Orton." Riley rolled her eyes, re-adjusting the strap of her backpack on her shoulder. "Hey Parker. How are you man?"

Parker continued to smirk from the backseat at Jeremy. "What exactly are your intentions towards my sister Jeremy?" Riley glared at her younger brother, who paid no attention whatsoever. "Because if you're just trying to get the rest of you into her pants…" Parker grimaced slightly, "well you do know who my Dad is right? If he found out you were trying to tap his only daughter's ass. Well, he would probably…"

"Shut up Parker." Riley growled, glaring as her brother collapsed into the backseat, practically vibrating with laughter. "What are you doing here Mom?"

"Picking you up." Trish replied, opening the door to the driver's seat of her jeep. "Now shift your butt and get in."

"But I was going to ride home with Jeremy." Riley barely stamped her foot against the ground, but it didn't go unnoticed by Trish. Levelling her daughter with a simple look, she motioned to the empty passenger's seat with a slight incline of her head. Clearly, that was the end of that discussion.

"I'll see you later." Riley pouted, briefly kissing Jeremy on the lips. Stomping towards the car, she tossed her bag through the back window, hitting her brother square in the chest. Marching around the front of the car, Riley slipped into the seat next to her mother.

"Bye Mrs. Orton." Shuffling his feet nervously, Jeremy waved nervously at Riley's mother. Sliding her sunglasses on her face, Trish gave the boy one last look before hitting the accelerator.

The car journey started in silence. Arms folded across her chest in a vice, Riley had been staring out the window before she turned to scowl at her mother. "You realise you totally embarrassed me back there in front of Jeremy, right?"

"Did I?" Trish replied without looking. A faint smile of amusement curving her mouth.

"Yes. You did." Gritting her teeth, Riley went back to staring out of the window.

"I think it was lucky that I showed up when I did. Another five minutes and god knows what you and Jeremy would have been doing." Trish tutted softly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Riley shot back almost immediately.

"That I just caught you and your boyfriend quite publicly making out on the steps of your school." Trish's tone remained even, never a good sign. Trish Orton wasn't one to get angry. Rather she would become unnaturally calm, which could become more unnerving than if she had started screaming.

"We were not making out!" Riley cried. "What were you even doing there anyway? I always ride home after school with Jeremy."

"Oh I bet you ride something." Parker chuckled quietly at his own joke. Turning in her seat, Riley stared at him with venom in her eyes.

Glancing into the rear-view mirror, Trish shook her head at her son's suggestion. "Parker!"

With Parker still poking his tongue out at Riley, she span around in her seat to face the front. Arms resuming their tight grip around her chest, she continued to glare with menace out of the window. "You could have told me you were going to be there."

"And miss the chance to see my daughter getting corrupted in a public forum? Never." Trish chuckled in good humour, but Riley didn't respond. It was obvious her mother wasn't going to give her a hard time, but she was still fuming at her being there in the first place. "God forbid I could actually pick up my own daughter from school."

"God didn't forbid it," Riley spat, "I did. Pulling up right in front of the school, where everyone could see you? Mom, are you trying to sabotage my life in some way?"

"Don't be so dramatic Riley." Trish chuckled, twisting the steering wheel in her hands. "I was just coming to surprise you, that's all."

"Great surprise Mom." Slumping back into her seat, Riley suddenly became fascinated with the buckle on her belt. It was a weak attempt to give her mother the silent treatment. But whether the teenage Orton wanted it or not, her mother was intent on having a conversation.

"So how was school today sweetheart? Did you get your essay back in History?" Trish smiled brightly, even as a car on her left cut in front of her, causing her to perform some quite experimental braking manoeuvres.

"It sucked. I got a B+." Studying her nails, Riley didn't bother to look in her mother's direction.

"You got a what? How is that possible?" Trish diverted her attention to her daughter for a moment, before focusing on the road again. "I read that essay. It was a great piece of work. What did your teacher say were your weak points?"

"That I was stretching in my comparisons." Riley mumbled.

"Please." Trish responded shaking her head. "Just because your teacher doesn't like being called out as being an autocrat is hardly a reason for marking you down. You want me to call the school baby?" Trish's offer was genuine, but got a simple grunt in response. "Riley honey, is something the matter?"

For the first time since she had gotten in the car, Riley turned to look at her mother. "Have I mentioned that I really don't like you?" Riley cringed inwardly at her own words. She obviously didn't mean that. But it was just that she found her mother so frustrating. Riley often found herself wondering if her mother actually deliberately made her life difficult just because she could. Today's little escapade was just the latest in a long line of problems the Orton women had.

Luckily for Riley, Trish didn't even look phased. "On a daily basis sweetheart."

"Good."

Smiling, Trish pulled in to park. Switching the engine off, she smiled brightly at her daughter. "We're here. Now, fight your deep urge to be arduous and play nice, okay?" Winking at Riley before she could reply, Trish unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car. "Parker honey. Can you grab my bag out of the back? Thank you."

Glancing out of the window, Riley arched an eyebrow incredulously. They had stopped outside a cheap looking burger restaurant. It was the kind that tried to emulate the kind of restaurants you'd find back in the fifties. In Riley's opinion, it failed miserably. If anything, it looked cheap and tacky. Unbuckling her own belt, she got out of the car, making sure she slammed the door behind her. "Mom, you know I've got Jeremy's party tonight. Why are we coming to this flea pit?"

"I'd like to sit down and have a meal with my kids, if that's okay with you duchess." Slinging arms around both Parker and Riley, Trish steered them into the restaurant.

Riley immediately poked out her tongue at what she saw. A large counter area was quite densely populated with trucker-types. Averting her eyes in horror, Riley clearly did not want to see anymore hairy butt-cleavage like that in front of her for the rest of her life.

There were seats along the length of the window. Booths of between four to six seats. Dressed in hideous red vinyl, they were topped off with red chequered table clothes, matching the aprons worn by the waitresses. All around, noise seemed to engulf the room. From the ringing of bells to the sound of frying grease. Fighting back a wave of nausea, Riley barely heard her mother tell her and Parker to head to the booth in the back.

Muttering obscenities under her breath, Riley trudged forward. Desperate not to make eye contact, she kept herself focused on the floor. Parker trailed behind, clearly not bothered by their surrounding as Riley was. Arriving at the booth in the back, Riley realised it was already occupied. Someone was already sat there, busily reading a large plastic menu that obscured their features. Turning over her shoulder, Riley found her mother following behind at a distance as she fumbled in her bag for something. "Mom!" Riley yelled at incredible volume. "There's already someone sat there."

"That's okay miss. There's plenty of room for everyone."

Riley's body tensed, recognising the voice that spoke. Turning back around in a lightning fast arc, she could barely contain the scream of excitement. Lowering the menu, the grinning voice of Randy Orton looked up at his daughter. His crystal blue eyes sparkled in amusement. The broad smile he wore on his lips made the expression lines on his face a little more pronounced.

Randy was as handsome as ever. Age clearly improved his looks, and he was still as swooned over as he had been before Riley had been born. Perhaps his physique wasn't quite as tight and toned as it had once been. But his body was something to be proud of. The only real signs of age on his appearance were the few streaks of grey starting to appear at his temples.

Riley continued to cream with excitement. "Daddy!" Rushing forward at an alarming rate, Riley flung herself at her father, diving over the table top to wrap her arms around her father's neck. Randy easily caught his daughter, catching her in a strangling embrace. Holding her close, he felt his heart swell as he whispered softly into her ear at how happy he was to see her.

Rocking her gently, Randy found himself at the bottom of a human pile as Parker in turn threw himself at his father. Randy caught his son just as easily, squeezing his son tightly to him as he had done his daughter. As Trish got closer to the table, she felt tears pool in her eyes at the sight of her children tightly embracing their father.

Taking a seat on the opposite side of the booth, she smiled softly as she watched Parker and Riley talk over one another. Both were clearly thrilled to see their father. As a stockholder of World Wrestling Entertainment, and its current Champion, Randy was away from home more than he liked. With the added responsibility of the corporate side as well as being a Champion, his schedule was punishing at kept him from his family for extended periods of time. In fact, the last time he had been with them was four months ago.

Of course he talked to them daily on the telephone, but it couldn't compare to seeing them in the flesh, holding them close and listening to their excited chatter. As it was, Randy had to brush a few rogue tears discreetly from his eyes as he sat in between Riley and Parker.

"I can't believe you're here." Riley gushed, clinging onto Randy's arm for dear life. "How come you are here, anyway?"

"Well I was in the area, and I thought I'd come see you guys while I could." Randy smiled at Riley who beamed back at her.

All at once, her face fell as if she were putting two and two together. "Wait. Does this mean you're not going to make it to my birthday party?" Riley knew this story far too well. If their father made a surprise visit, it usually meant that it was to make up for a planned visit he was going to cancel. Unfortunately for both Riley and Parker, they had gotten used to it. They knew what an unexpected visit from Randy meant.

"Of course not princess." Randy smiled, planting a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "I told you I'm going to be there for your party. Nothing is going to keep me away. I promise."

"Good." Riley beamed, slowly sliding herself out of her seat. "I need to go to the bathroom." Turning over her shoulder to head across the restaurant, Riley stopped short to look back at her father. "Don't go anywhere." With a smile, she hurried off out of sight.

Parker continued to grin both at his father and mother until Trish spoke. "Parker sweetie, do me a favour and go grab me a desert menu from the counter."

Parker nodded, clambering over his father and trotted off on his errand. That left Trish and Randy alone. Both Orton's looked nervously at one another, smiling and laughing a little. "You're looking well, Trish."

"You too." Trish replied, feeling colour flushing to her cheeks. She felt stupid at not being able to maintain eye contact with Randy, but it could be helped. In her head, she had rehearsed this conversation over and over for the past four days since Randy had called to say he would be passing through.

Grabbing her bag, she carefully extracted a thick document containing several pages. Without looking at him, she slid it across the table to Randy. "Randy, I need you to sign that."

Accepting it from Trish, Randy took one look at the front page and stared at Trish, his blue eyes awash with shock. "Divorce papers? You want to divorce me?"

"I've been with my lawyer and they've drawn these up." Trish did her best to ignore the hurt on Randy's face. The only way she could was focus on small details. "It's a fair agreement. You keep the house in St. Louis, and I'll keep the house here in California. If you want the property in Hawaii it's yours. If not, we can put it up for sale." Randy shook his head more in disbelief than anything. "We'll divide the assets up equally between us. You'll get a percentage of my earnings from my company, and I'll get the same from the stock in WWE."

Licking her lips, Trish was now coming to the part which made the prospect even worse. "I've put in for joint custody of the kids, with the understanding that they will live with me, and stay with you in a periodicity to be decided depending on your schedule."

As though he hadn't heard any of what Trish said, Randy stared intently into her eyes. "You want to divorce me?"

"Come on Randy. Please don't make this any harder that it has to be." Trish could here the desperation in her own voice. "It'll be easier for us and the kids if we go through this amicably."

"I don't understand." Randy admitted, like the idea of a divorce was coming out of the blue. Evidently, it wasn't.

"We've been separated for four years Randy." Trish explained.

"Three years, ten months and fourteen days, actually." Randy replied, feeling his jaw line tense at his own words. But he knew he was right. He'd kept a definite tack of the amount of time since he and his wife had become estranged.

Obviously agitated at the situation and the fact that Randy was actually hurting as much as she was, Trish was desperate to get Randy to agree. "Randy, please just sign the papers. I'll do the rest of the work. I just need you to let me move on with my life."

"I'm not going to sign it Trish. You can forget it." Randy shoved the papers back across the table at Trish.

Feeling her temper rising, Trish offered the papers back to her husband. "Being stubborn about this isn't going to change the facts Randy. Just sign it and then we can both get on with our lives. It's for the best."

"No. It is not." Randy replied. "I am not going to sign it Trish. And I am prepared to fight you every damn step of the way if I have to."

"Why?" Trish whimpered, fighting to keep back the tears from spilling down her cheeks. "What can you possibly gain by making this a battle?"

Randy shook his head. "It's not about what I'm going to gain by fighting you. It's about what I'm going to lose if I agree to it." Reaching across the table, Randy caught Trish's hand in his own. "I love you Trish. For that reason alone I won't give up."

Trish felt her heart sink lower than her stomach. This was exactly what she had feared would happen. In hindsight, perhaps it had been naïve of her to expect Randy to readily agree to this. He was Randy Orton after all. There was no way he would back down over anything.

Trish could feel her resolve crumbling all at once. All those nights she had told herself that she was strong and she was prepared for this. Everything was dashed in an instant of hearing Randy's voice and the look in his eyes. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe this wasn't the right way to do this. Her heart told her it wasn't at. Trish's lips trembled as she moved to tell him that she loved him too, that she didn't really want this, and that she thought she was doing the right thing.

Riley's time was impeccable as ever, as she strode back towards her parents. Randy immediately grabbed the divorce documents in panic and sat on them. Trish brushed back the tears as Riley dropped into a seat next to her father, just as Parker reappeared with a menu. "Are you two okay?" he enquired, handing the plastic to his mother.

"Of course baby." Trish smiled. Trish had learned over the years that she was capable of hiding her emotions from her children, with great effect. Especially when it came to the pain of being separated from their father. Her breath calming, her practical mind reasserted itself, telling her to be stronger the next time this conversation came up between her and Randy.

Next time, she would be prepared. Next time. She wouldn't take no for an answer.

"So," Randy cut in, hoping to divert the attention of his children away from his calming wife. "Who's hungry?"

* * *

_**A/N: **_**In case I lost anyone along the way? This story is set roughly eighteen years after _All That Glitters_. Just for reference ;)**


	2. The Party

_**A/N: **_**Update! New chapter for you guys. First of all, can I say thank you to everyone who reviewed my first chapter. I was truly blown away by the level of response I had. I'm thrilled that you guys are still enjoying my little saga, and I hope that you will love 'Impossible Princess' as much as I do. I'm glad that you also like the direction I've taken in it. The drama? Well, you all know we well enough now to expect it! And there's more to come! Mwahaha!**

**Speaking of loving, a shout out for a friend of mine. If you guys are unfamiliar with the awesome talent that is shannygoat, I highly recommend you check out her 'Perfect' series. I've been reading these stories for the past couple of weeks and I have been left in total awe at the level of talent this woman as. So go check her stuff out! Trust me, you'll love it as much as I do!**

**Here is the new chapter. Please read and review! I disclaim!**

* * *

Riley grinned ruefully as she sipped on the diet coke she held in her hand. It was ten forty-five at night, and the part at Jeremy's house was already in full swing.

It seemed students from across the state had heard about the party and had decided to crash the party. In truth, Riley was sure she didn't recognise the majority of people. But that didn't matter. This wasn't her party, so she wouldn't have to concern herself with the issues of party crashers. She could just enjoy herself with her close circle of friends.

That seemed to be a particularly difficult task this evening. Despite the fact that she had spent the best part of the afternoon with her father, which always made her ecstatic, she was still seething at her mother. It seemed to Riley, that no matter what she did, her mother was determined to destroy every ounce of credibility that she had with her peers. Showing up at school out of the blue to pick her up was unacceptable, even if it was to take her to see her father. She could have had the decency to call ahead first.

Riley could feel her cheeks flushing at the memory of her mother interrupting her kiss with Jeremy. Silently vowing to get some form of revenge, Riley looked up to see the boy in question approaching. Navigating his way through the people clustering throughout his house, he grinned as he found Riley. As always, he looked sexy as hell in a loose fitting pair of jeans a red polo tee-shirt. His arms were toned and tanned to perfection. They were probably Riley's favourite feature on her boyfriend. The way his large arms could just wrap themselves around her and make her feel the world didn't matter as long as she was between them was magical.

More than once recently, Riley had found herself what it would feel like to be in Jeremy's arms in an all together different setting. She was a growing woman, and of course her thoughts were bound to stray towards the sexual at some point. She had accepted this, but it still didn't mean that she didn't feel guilty about it. And as much as she maintained that she was determined to remain a virgin until she found 'the one', Riley couldn't help but day dream about making love to Jeremy. She had shared everything else with him, why couldn't she give herself to him physically?

It wasn't as though he pressured her, nor that she really didn't want to jump his bones. Everyone wanted to screw Jeremy. He was easily sex on legs, and Riley was aware that he could have his pick of any girl he wanted. But for some reason, Riley had yet to take the plunge and finally complete the act. It was a big step after all. She knew that once she did, there would be no way to take it back. The idea of regretting losing her virginity plagued her more than she liked. And some part of her wasn't sure why she imagined herself regretting sleeping with Jeremy. Was she truly in love with him? _Of course I am. What a stupid question._

Sighing at her own self-doubt, Riley realised this clearly wasn't the time to dwell on such things as her boyfriend approached. Dropping into the spare seat on the couch next to her, his arm found a natural place around her shoulders. Butterflies danced around inside her stomach as she felt his bicep flex between her shoulder blades as he held her close. No-one else made her feel the way he did. No-one else could.

Kissing her temple, Jeremy slurped at the beer he held in his hand. Across from the pair was sat Melody. As was custom with the girl, she had brought her very own stash of alcohol with her, the idea of drinking beer from a single source _'like the rest of the teenage rabble'_ was her idea of hell. Melody was currently enjoying a cocktail she had created for herself. And in true Melody fashion, she was already checking out the party for potential male talent. After all, being as hot as she clearly was, it would be a crime to go home without someone on her arm.

Looking over at Riley and Jeremy, Melody could help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Of course she could have any man she wanted. Everyone knew she could, and she quite often did. What everyone didn't know was that Melody secretly craved the kind of closeness that Riley and Jeremy had. She wanted someone to care about her the way those two cared about each other. There was something to be said about having the same person to come to every night. Not that Melody knew. She'd never kept a boyfriend for longer than two months. And it was all her own doing. They never broke up with her; it was always her running a mile.

For someone who craved a relationship, she had an uncanny knack of running away from them like her life depended on it. Sighing dejectedly, she leaned back in her chair and studied the pair with a lazy interest.

"Hey baby. You having a good time?" Jeremy squeezed Riley's shoulders gently, as she turned to face him.

"This music is dire, but I'm good." Riley smiled, letting her free hand fall to rest on his thigh. She was actually in a fairly bad mood, and the fact the music was some hip-hop rubbish didn't help matters. Knowing this was her boyfriend's party, she was desperate to appear upbeat and happy. But it just wasn't happening tonight. "I'm just still really pissed at my Mom for earlier."

Across from the couple, Melody rolled her eyes. "Come on Riley. Give the woman a break. That was hardly the most embarrassing thing your mother has ever done. Besides, she took you to see your Dad. That's cool, right?"

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically, but Riley was still unconvinced. "She pulls this crap all the time. It had less to do with seeing my Dad as it did her checking up on me. I swear she is a one-woman reputation wrecking crew. It was mortifying. Can you imagine if someone like Savannah had seen her? I would never live that scene down."

"Still, you got to see your Dad right? In the same room as your Mom? That's got to be progress." Melody smiled encouragingly at Riley.

"Yeah, but they barely said two words to each other all afternoon. Mom sat there with a face like thunder and Dad couldn't even meet her eyes. Something is going on there. Why they think I don't know is beyond me." Riley shrugged her shoulders. She had dreamed for a long time about her parents getting back together. But if today's debacle was anything to go, she was dreaming in vein.

"Don't worry about it," Jeremy soothed, "your Mom is cool. And so is your Dad. They'll work things out. I'm sure of it." Jeremy kissed Riley's temple tenderly. "And try not to be so hard on your Mom. She isn't as un-cool as you like to make out she is. She could have turned up to school today in a trash bag and still be the greatest Mom ever. Be thankful you're the daughter of Trish Orton and not someone else."

"Dude, you saw Mrs. Orton?" The three turned to face the oncoming force of nature that was Jared Wells. Standing at a little over six-foot, with sandy blonde hair, he was Jeremy's best friend. It was always amusing to Riley that the four were friends. If anything, they were all the version of each other in the opposite sex. Where Jeremy and Riley were attractive but not in an overtly stunning way, Jared and Melody easily had careers as models if they so wished to pursue it. As it was, as much as Riley and Jeremy were in a solid relationship, Jared and Melody remained 'friends with benefits'. They happily acted as other's bed buddy should the situation call for it.

Dropping onto the arm of Melody's chair, the brunette grimaced as she moved herself from out of his way. He was quite inebriated by the seems, if the sloppy yet beaming smile was anything to go by.

Jeremy nodded that he had seen Trish, already fearful of what was coming. Jared grinned lazily. "Oh man. She is totally fine. I would so love to hit that shit all night long. I bet I could give that woman some real _Stratusfaction_." Almost toppling from the edge of the chair, Jared made vague thrusting motions with his hips.

"Dude," Riley squeaked in indignance. "That is my mother you are talking about!"

"Sorry Riley, but your Mom is totally fine. Like really." Jared licked his lips as his eyes seemed to space out. Lost in a vision of a naked Trish Orton flat on her back with her legs in the air, he chuckled to himself. Coming back to his senses, he grinned wildly at Jeremy. "Man, she is a total _MILF!"_

"Jared!" Melody whined, landing a well aimed slap across his leg. Even though Trish wasn't her own mother, she certainly didn't need to hear some pubescent fantasy about her best friend's mother.

Shrugging his shoulders, Jared was clearly oblivious. "What? It's true. Even Jeremy thinks so." Melody's eye brow arched as Riley turned to face her reddening boyfriend. "Like totally. He said that time we went to Riley's house for a pool party last summer and _Mrs. O _was wearing yellow summer dress? He told me all about how he wanted to bend her over the diving board, and rip her panties off with his teeth so he could -…"

Jared voice came out as a strangled whimper as Jeremy hurled a cushion directly into his face, effectively cutting off the admission. Knocked off balance, Jared collapsed into a heap on the ground behind Melody's chair. Melody snorted with laughter, as Riley folded her arms across her chest. "You'd like to bend my Mom over and do what exactly, Jeremy?"

"Nothing babe." Jeremy smirked weakly, colour burning brightly in the rounds of his cheeks. Was there anything more embarrassing that your girlfriend knowing you had fantasised about her mother? "Jared was just being a dick. You know how he is."

"Oh I know how the pair of you have an unnatural obsession with my mother." Riley stated, standing up from the chair. "I think I need to get some fresh air from all this testosterone. Don't say anything nauseating about my Mom while I'm gone now, will you?"

"We won't," Jared groaned as he finally righted himself. "You know Riley, you should take it as a complement that a lot of guys in school find your Mom totally hot. Like, statistically speaking? She's gotta be in the spank-bank of at least ninety per cent of the -…"

Jared yelped as Riley smacked the back of his head as she passed him. Melody continued to chuckle as Jeremy dived at his friend, getting him in a headlock with ease. Shaking her head, Riley carefully eased her way passed several drunken teens dancing wildly in the room. Smiling at some that she recognised, she took a detour towards the kitchen as she saw the queue for the bathroom stretching endlessly. So much for that idea. Knowing the house like she did, Riley planned on using the kitchen door to get to the pool house and use the bathroom there. Anything to get away from the disturbing mental image of Jeremy and her mother.

The kitchen was fairly empty by comparison to the rest of the house. The sound of the music and strands of conversations filtered in but nothing was entirely clear. Glad of the reprieve, Riley leant against the island in the centre of the kitchen. Deciding the bathroom could wait, she moved around the island to reach the top cupboard. Pulling the wooden door back, Riley removed Jeremy's stash of potato chips. Ripping the bag open, she emptied them into a nearby bowl. Munching away, she only became aware of the other person in the room as she nearly tripped over them.

He had been bending down to get into the bottom drawer of the freezer, and swore in response to Riley's foot being inserted into his kidney. Managing to keep her bowl of chips stable, Riley stepped back as whoever it was stood to their full height.

"Lucas!"

Shrieking with delight, Riley dropped the bowl onto the work surface and hugged her friend closer to her. Lucas Cena smiled as he recognised Riley, squeezing her petit body closer to him. "What's up Orton?"

Lucas Cena was the first born son of professional wrestler John Cena and Candice Michelle. The same age as Riley, there were in fact only nine months separating the pair. He was every inch his father's son. His broad shoulders and sculpted muscles were visible through the taut black tee-shirt stretched over his body. He had the same masculine jaw-line, as well as a pair of bright blue eyes. He had been one of Riley's first crushes, despite the fact they had been friends since they were old enough to walk.

"I didn't know you were coming tonight! Hell, I didn't even know you were in town." Riley giggled. "It's great to see you."

"You too," Lucas grinned, retrieving the packet of ice he had left on the ground. "I'm here with you Dad. OVW is in town this weekend, they're holding try-outs. Your Dad is heading up this one." Riley nodded, realising that made sense to her father's presence here in LA. "A couple of the guys heard about the party, and so we decided to head over. I was hoping you'd be here, I ain't seen you in ages girl."

Riley smiled warmly. "I know. It's been too long." Picking up on what Lucas has said, Riley couldn't resist questioning him further. "You guys are here holding try-outs?" Lucas nodded. "When?"

"Next weekend and the following week on Wednesday through Friday." Lucas arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued at Riley's interest in detail.

Riley nodded, as though it had been a random thought and nothing more. Secretly, she knew full well it had been anything but innocent as the excitement bubbled wildly inside her. Maybe now she would finally have her chance to get into the wrestling industry. But that was nothing for Lucas to be concerned about. Deciding a topic change would be appropriate to not let on any more, Riley moved onto a familiar subject. "Is Maisy in town with you too?"

Madison 'Maisy' Cena was the younger sister of Lucas and long-time friend of Riley. The two girls had been close growing up, and maintained their friendship despite the distance of living hundreds of miles away from one another.

"No," Lucas admitted. "She's back home with Mom. You should come visit us. I know she's dying to see you."

Riley nodded, snatching a potato chip out of the bowl. "I miss her too. I'll call her on the weekend." Lucas nodded, finding the bottle of beer he had placed on the counter.

"Did you hear I got called up to WWE?" Lucas grinned at Riley's reaction.

"Seriously?" She squealed, unable to believe her ears.

"Seriously. I got the call two weeks ago. I've going to finish the month up with OVW, and then I'm heading up to SmackDown. It is freakin' awesome news." Lucas beamed with pride at finally being able to move from the WWE's training facility to the big leagues and nationally televised broadcasts.

"I'm so happy for you Lucas." Riley smiled warmly, re-attaching her arms around his neck to hug his body close to hers again. "I bet your Dad is thrilled to hear you're finally taking the big step."

"He is." He smiled proudly, the hint of a blush colouring his cheeks at the knowledge that his father had gotten all misty eyed when he'd found out his son had made it to the premier level of the company. "And what about you Orton? When are you going to get your cute little butt to OVW and get into the business?"

Riley sighed, the chip she was about to eat resting inches away from her mouth. This was a sore subject for her, despite her secret ambitions. "Have you met my mother Lucas? Let's not even go there."

"She still stopping you from applying to join the company?" Lucas asked with as much sympathy as he could muster. It was no secret between the friends that Trish Orton had flat-out refused to allow her daughter to sign up to a professional wrestling training promotion. It had led to numerous screaming matched between mother and daughter. The outcome had always been the same. Riley was forbidden from joining any wrestling organisation.

"Yeah. Last time OVW was in town? I was basically under house-arrest until they moved on. She just will not even consider it. And it pisses me off. Who is she to run my life and tell me what I can and can't do with my future? I swear she doesn't even stop to think that maybe that's what I want out of my life. To be a wrestler." Riley sighed again, this time moving her shoulders animatedly. Her dreams of becoming a wrestler were the biggest bone of contention between herself and her mother.

"What does your Dad say?" Lucas enquired, reasoning that as her father was still involved with the company, he might be more open to the idea of his daughter joining. Randy had often joked with Lucas's father that Riley could perform a decent headlock long before she could walk properly.

"Doesn't say a word on it. I barely see him as it is, so any time we do share is not really taken up with my Mom's stubborn attitude. He can't support me any less than the regime of my Mom at any rate." Riley chewed thoughtfully on another potato chip. "I don't see what her problem is. She was a wrestler, Dad still is. The business is in my family. I could be a forth generation superstar! I just wish she'd listen to me and to what I want for a change. Just for once. Maybe then she'd have a clue about who I am."

Lucas chuckled warmly. Placing his arm around Riley's shoulder, he hugged her closer. "She'll come around Orton. I know it. I mean you're wicked talented. Didn't you beat half the guys on your school's wrestling team before they stopped you from competing against them?"

Riley grinned at the memory. The faculty had said that they were merely trying to protect her from being hurt by boys twice her size. Riley knew the only reason why they had stopped her was because she besting all their champions in the state league. She was a gifted wrestler, and everyone knew it. Everyone it seemed, accept Trish. "Oh you know it Cena. In fact, I bet I can kick your ass from here all the way back to West Newbury."

"Is that a fact?" Lucas's eyebrow arched onto his forehead. Never one to back down from a challenge, he carefully placed the glass beer bottle down on the surface. Standing to his full height, he easily towered over Riley as he grinned mischievously.

"You know it bitch." Riley smirked. Inclining her head upwards, she easily adopted the cocky attitude her father had perfected over the years. "You're looking at the new Legend Killer Cena."

Lucas chuckled warmly as he captured Riley in a bear hug. "You'd better work on your Mom and get your ass to OVW girl. It's on."

* * *

Relaxing back onto Jeremy's bed, Riley sighed. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling above as Jeremy contented himself with tracing circles over his girlfriend's stomach. The party had ended an entire hour after Riley's curfew, and she still hadn't even thought about going home yet. Getting close to two in the morning, the last thing Riley wanted to was to go home and face the wrath of her waiting mother. She could already picture the taught features of Trish, sat on the couch with her arms folded across her chest.

Jeremy's house was heaven by comparison. The house was empty and bathed in silence. It was also in complete disarray thanks to the teenaged revellers, but that would be tomorrow's problem. At least it would be for Jeremy.

Resting his head on the pillow next to Riley, he smiled gently as he turned to face her. Tilting his head upwards, Jeremy's lips connected with Riley's in the briefest touch. She tasted like cherry, and he swore he would never get enough of the flavour of her mouth. Finally pausing from the rainfall of kisses, Jeremy pulled his head back. "What are you thinking about babe?"

"Just stuff." Riley sighed, shifting herself to lay closer to Jeremy.

"Stuff? Damn that's profound." Jeremy chuckled lazily, resting his across Riley's stomach. Her top had ridded up slightly so his forearm rested skin to skin with her. Riley didn't deny the burning feeling that his skin left. The warmth even spread altogether lower than her stomach, centring at a more delicious place. Trying to ignore her growing arousal, Riley locked eyes with her boyfriend

"Alright. I was thinking about maybe talking to my Mom again about me applying to join OVW. I'm almost eighteen, and it's what I want to do. You never know, she might think differently this time." Riley glanced at Jeremy hopefully. As drunk as he was, he clearly didn't think it was one of Riley's greater ideas.

"I hope to god you're joking blondie." Raising to rest his weight on one elbow, Jeremy eyed his girlfriend suspiciously. "You remember how it kicked off the last time you two talked about? I swear I have never seen a human being turn that many shades of red. It was like World War Three at your house all week."

"It could be different this time," Riley protested weakly. "She might have got the pole out of her ass long enough to consider what I want. This is what I want to do with my life Jay. She should respect that, not keep shooting me down all the time."

"She's your mother baby." Jeremy carefully lowered himself, resting his head on Riley's breast as hiss fingers explored her sides. "You know she's only looking out for you the best way she can. Maybe you _should_ go to college first. Get your education in something you want, and then think about going into the business."

Riley chuckled with more sarcasm than she had wanted. "Coming from the guy who turned down a full football scholarship to join some crappy indie federation? I don't see you focusing on _your_ education."

Jeremy sighed gently in the darkness of his room. He had dreams of becoming a wrestler just like Riley did. And despite his natural talent at football, he wanted something altogether different. "All I'm saying is that you're a talented girl Riley. There are loads of things I know you'd be good at. Maybe you should explore the world and see what's out there first. Besides, you ain't even eighteen yet. There's no need to decided on what you want to do for the rest of your life now."

Riley remained silent, even though she felt the weight behind Jeremy's words. His fingers continued to trace patterns over her sides. Sucking in a breath silently, Jeremy moved his head down to join where his hands were. His lips explored the skin with a gentle desire. Riley moaned softly, her hips squirming as Jeremy continued to kiss her stomach. His hands moved down from her sides to rest on her thighs, gently rubbing them in a backwards and forwards motion.

Letting her head relax back on the pillow, Riley could feel her resolved slipping away. Deciding maybe the time was right to _be_ with Jeremy, she tried to relax as one of his hands ventured between her thighs, exploring the denim of her jeans. His lips moved even further down, below her navel. Lapping at the skin as though his life depended on it, Jeremy took the plunge and slid his hand all the way between her legs.

Riley's body immediately stiffened at the contact of Jeremy's hands. It may have been on top of her clothes, but the sensation was enough to snap her to her senses. Trying to sit up, she had difficult in doing so as Jeremy' free hand was pressed over her stomach. "Jay stop it. Jay…"

Jeremy mumbled something into her stomach, his hand never stopping its exploration of what was hidden between her thighs. Riley's face contorted with effort as she bucked her hips, hitting Jeremy square in the face with abdomen. "Get off me Jeremy!"

He fell backwards off her, clutching at his throbbing nose as she immediately got off the bed. Feeling her heat pounding in her ears, Riley snatched up her shoes, and headed straight for the door to his bedroom. She didn't quite make it however as his hand caught her arm. He was stronger than her, and span her around in his arms to face him. His eyes were wide with remorse as he held her face between his hands. "Riley I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry baby."

Lowering his head to hers, his kisses fell over her mouth like falling rain. Riley was unresponsive, staying motionless in his arms. "I'm sorry baby. I got a little carried away. You just…I go crazy every time I'm near you Riley. I love you so much and I really want to show you that I do." Riley finally looked up into Jeremy's eyes, feeling her resolve crumble. "I know that's no excuse. I'm really, really sorry Riley. Please don't be mad at me. I just lose it being around you. I've never felt like this about anyone before."

Riley smiled gently, tilting her head to kiss Jeremy's lips. "It's okay. I know how it feels to want to just ignore everything and go for it. I do. And it's going to happen Jay. I just need to feel ready."

Jeremy felt relief flood through him. "Of course. I respect that and I respect you. I would never force you into anything. I love you and I will wait till you're sure."

"Thank you." Relaxing into his embrace, Riley hugged Jeremy closer. "I need to go home. My Mom is going to kill me, so I'd better face it."

Stepping out of the embrace, Jeremy watched Riley head to the door. "Hang on. I'll grab my sneakers and I'll walk you."

"It's okay baby." Riley smiled. "It's not far. I can get there alone." Jeremy looked unconvinced and continued to search for his shoes. "Besides, I think you need to take a cold shower. You're going to take someone's eye out with that thing."

Looking confused for a moment, Jeremy glanced down to see his hardness tenting the front of his jeans. His face flooding with embarrassment, he looked up sheepishly to Riley who smiled. She wasn't offended in the least that he was that much aroused. In fact, it was more the opposite. She was secretly pleased in the display of how much he wanted her. Bidding him goodnight, Riley headed out the door and towards home.

Dropping back onto his bed, Jeremy slapped his palms against his face. Feeling remorse and his actions a few moments ago, he couldn't help but curse himself. "You stupid, stupid dick!"

He meant what he said when it came to Riley. He was never going to push her into something she wasn't ready for. He really cared about her and wanted her to be ready when they finally slept together. Still, he was still presented with the problem of his erection and the desperate need for relief. Of course he could relieve himself, but where was the fun in that.

Grabbing his cell phone, he flipped it open and dialled a number that was easily familiar to him by now. Waiting for it to connect he, smirked as he heard her gush with excitement to realise it was him.

"Hey girl it's me. Man you looked hot in your dress tonight. You wanna come over here and model it for me? I reckon that outfit will look so much better on my bedroom floor…"

Jeremy grinned wildly. God it was good to be him.


	3. Together

_**A/N:**_**Update. New chapter for your reading pleasure. I'm thrilled you guys are getting into this one early on. It's great to know what you guys are still enjoying what I'm writing. I hope you like this chapter.**

**As _shout outs _go, this one has to be for Chynna. She is quite easily one of the greatest people I know. You're going to do great things kid, I know it. Remind me to RSVP your next street-corner pole dancing session ;)**

**Please read and review. I disclaim! **

* * *

Trish sighed gently to herself. Perched on a barstool, she leant easily onto the polished bar surface, chewing her bottom lip in thought. The pencil in her hand scratched against her scalp as she used it to elevate an itch that just wasn't there. It was more of a nervous habit she had picked up and never lost. The clock against the far wall proudly displayed the time as past one in the morning, meaning her restaurant had closed almost an hour earlier. It was fairly quiet inside, save the remaining members of staff, who were diligently closing up for the night. Trish took the luxury of watching them bustle around clearing tables and up-turning chairs, before returning back to her own work.

The frame of her glasses rested precariously low on the bridge of her nose as her eyebrows scrunched into concentration. With her free hand, she used her delicate fingers to push the buttons of the business calculator laying flat on the desk. Every once in a while, she would move one of the invoices to retrieve a figure from the one below it.

Tucking the pencil behind her ear, Trish hit the 'equals' button with relish. The calculator totted up the figures in an instant, displaying the end result. Trish's smiled weakly. _Another massive profit. _Not that she had been expecting anything different. Ever since she had made the decision to expand her business ventures into the restaurant world, she _always_ made a profit. It was as inevitable as death, or taxes. People simply flocked to Trish's restaurant in Los Angeles, making the waiting list for a table a topic of gossip amongst the celebrity analysts. Rumour had it that if you wanted to eat at _TAO_, you were required to book at least three months in advance.

Unless of course you knew the owner. In which case, Trish would guarantee you a table. Her undeniable success in business, not just the restaurant, still had Trish wondering just how it had all happened. It wasn't as though she had set out with a plan to gain such a multi-million dollar empire. And yet, here she was.

It had started out simple enough. Before the birth of her daughter, Trish had dabbled with fashion, designing her own underwear range. It had been an overnight success, with Trish's designs being the number one selling brand of lingerie in the country. With a little help from the WWE's merchandise promoters, her underwear had expanded the length and breadth of the country in months. A perfume followed swiftly, before Trish had taken time off to return for her swan-song with the WWE. After the birth of her daughter, she had taken her time before getting back into work, deciding she would rather enjoy the first precious years with her first-born.

It was after her return that Trish's business had snow-balled.

What had started as lingerie designs and a single perfume had swollen into her very own fashion and cosmetics line. Trish Orton was a brand, headed up the aptly named _House of TAO _incorporatedThis overseeing business collective oversaw the day-today runnings of her businesses, not mention the aggressive expansion across the globe. Trish was named as Chair-person of the entire _House of TAO _brand. She was a real name in the fashion industry, working with the most up-to-the-minute and famous designers. Her clothing line catered for all ages, and had even expanded to both sexes.

Her cosmetics were a global brand and regularly voted the number one products across the globe. It amazed Trish how quickly things had moved. In the space of ten years, she had built an empire Mr. McMahon would be proud of.

Of course, it hadn't been lost on Trish that as her career had sky-rocketed, so her marriage had started to fall apart. Even after taking the company public, with her very own Board of Directors, Trish involvement with her company had never diminished. She insisted on being present as much as she possibly could with everything from major decisions to supervising the staff in the factories.

And as busy as Trish had become, so had Randy's profile in the WWE become vital. He had grown past his earlier awkward stage as the third generation superstar trying to make good. He was a real name backstage, a person to be respected and learned from. Randy's involved with the company had transcended beyond simply wrestling, he was now part of the corporate side of the business. He was a major shareholder, as well as being involved with the Talent Relations strand of the company. Despite the personal success it afforded Randy, the success came with a price. It meant longer trips with the company, and increasingly longer periods of time spent away from home. In the end, it became necessary for Randy to purchase a home in Connecticut because of the amount of time spent there.

Of course he always made the effort to be there for his children as much as he could be on the road. They missed him terribly, but they knew how deeply he loved them.

Eventually however, Randy and Trish had learnt that there just weren't enough hours in the day for everything and everyone that demanded their attention. Something had to give, and it seemed it was destined to be their relationship. Somewhere into their first decade of marriage, Trish and Randy started to speak less and less. Phone calls which had been constant, ebbed from a daily basis to a quarterly event. Even special occasions had gone the same way. Randy and Trish would speak to each other every other anniversary…if they had the time to.

It wasn't that the couple didn't want to talk to one another. Quite the opposite. As successful as they were, they had become inherently miserable without one another. The simple fact was, they had forgotten _how_ to talk to one another.

Without realising it, Trish had suddenly found herself flirting outrageously with anyone who showed her just the slightest glint of attention. That was the antithesis of her personality. Trish had never been one to allow her self-esteem survive on the opinion of others. But she couldn't deny the truth to herself. She was tired of being alone, and just wanted someone who wanted her back. Trish had never lacked for male attention, but never before had she _returned_ that attention. She would never dream of breaking her vows, but that didn't mean she hadn't found herself thinking about it.

After fifteen years of marriage to the man of her dreams, Trish was forced to accept the fact that they now lived separate lives. And she honestly couldn't find a way back to who they used to be. The more frightening concern was that Trish wasn't even sure that she wanted to.

Things had reached breaking point after the first fifteen years, leaving Trish to make a difficult decision. She reasoned it was for the best, that she had been forced into it. Riley had been twelve years old, and a complete daddy's girl. Parker was ten, and totally idolised his father. And Trish had been the one to take them from the family home in St. Louis, and relocate to L.A where her work was.

At the time, Trish hadn't known which had hurt her more. The fact that her children blamed her for taking them away from their father, or that it had taken Randy a full five months before he realised his family had moved out. Either way, that had been the beginning of the end for their relationship. They were still technically married, and always were civil when in the presence of the children. But it was a marriage of circumstance rather than design.

Almost five years later, and Trish felt more lonely than she had back in St. Louis. It was the main reason why she had spoken to her lawyer about getting a divorce. She was trying to do what she felt was right by divorcing Randy. She figured that as long as her last name remained as Orton, she would never be able to move on with her life. She was trapped in a something that was called a marriage, but had ceased to be one a long time ago. There was no way in Trish's mind that things could continue on like this anymore. Maybe if Randy could accept that as she had, things would be easier.

Of course, Trish knew the children would have to be told sooner or later. Riley already had a grudge with mother for moving out of St. Louis. She seemed to revel in reminding her mother of that fact. Added to the fact she was a teenaged girl, soon to become a woman. Trish knew how well she and her mother had gotten on at that age. Suffice to say, they hadn't been the best friends that they were now.

And Riley aside, Trish knew that as soon as Parker found out what she had done, he would probably end up despising her as much as Riley seemed to.

Sighing softly, Trish allowed her head to fall into her hands. Out of everything she had ever dreamed for herself, this eventuality had definitely never entered her head. It was never supposed to be this way.

Trish looked up out of her misery to see Abbie approaching. Abbie had joined her staff almost six months ago, and Trish was quite fond of the girl. She was sweet, with dreams of becoming a professional actress. It was why she had moved to LA. As everyone knew, dreams didn't pay the bills, so she had been forced to get a job. She had no experience, but Trish had seen something in the girl, and had hired her. Trish never regretted her choice, especially this evening.

Abbie smiled as she placed the steaming tea cup on the bar surface to Trish's left. Trish glanced over to inhale the sweet raspberry fumes of the herbal tea. She smiled serenely at Abbie who bobbed her head. The girl had a knack of predicting what Trish wanted before she even knew herself. If the acting thing didn't work out, Trish was fully prepared to offer Abbie a management role within the restaurant. Turning her head, Abbie headed back towards the kitchen. Appreciating the gesture, Trish reached for the china cup. The knock at the front door stopped her however, almost causing her to knock it clear off the surface.

The knocking was insistent, despite the fact Trish shouted that they were closed. Whoever it was seemed intent on being answered. Huffing in annoyance, Trish hoped down from her stool, tossing her glasses onto the pile on invoices. Straightening down her shirt, she strode across the floor towards the main door.

Reaching for the top dead-bolt, she slid it to the side before unlocking the door with her own set of management keys. Grabbing the handle, she wrenched the door open fully prepared to scream bloody murder at whomever it was that had been pounding at her door. Instead, she felt her reserve melt as she recognised the sea green eyes sparkling at her.

"Jeff Hardy, it is far too late at night to be causing that amount of noise. And if you've scratched my door, you are so paying for the damages." Trish grinned as she pulled her friend into a hug. Adjusting the crutch he held, Jeff smirked as he held Trish close to him.

Finally, they released one another, and Trish stepped aside to let Jeff through. Placing the crutch back on the ground, Jeff leaned heavily against it as he limped into the restaurant. Locking the door once more, Trish followed Jeff in.

"Hold on, I'll get you seat." Trish scurried past Jeff, grabbing at one of the chairs that had been upturned onto the table.

"Trish that's too heavy for you." Jeff shook his head as Trish struggled, his southern accent dripping through the intone of his voice. "I'm fine standing. Honestly."

Trish raised an eyebrow as she looked from Jeff's crutch, back to his face. Gripping the chair legs solidly in her hands, she lifted it from the table. Turning it around, she placed it right-side up on the ground. "Jeff, you fractured your leg in three places, shattered your hip, not to mention the discs you damaged in your spine." Trish folded her arms across her chest as she regarded her blushing friend. "Sit your ass down."

With a soft pat on Jeff's shoulder, Trish watched him take the seat she had provided as she lifted another chair for herself. Settling into it opposite Jeff, she smiled. His ash-blonde hair was pulled back from his face in a loose ponytail, exposing his handsome face even more so. Age had been kind to Jeff, softening his features to a distinguished look. His fashion sense hadn't changed from his time in the professional wrestling world, evident by the black wife beater and loose fitting pants he was wearing.

"How are you feeling Jeff?" Trish crossed one leg over the other, intent on Jeff's answer. As far as she was aware, he had recently come out of hospital to repair more of the damage done to his back.

After one fateful night in the early 2000s, Jeff had performed a _'Swanton Bomb' _from the top of a steel cage to the announce tables on the outside. The move had gone wrong, causing Jeff to plummet awkwardly through the table and injure himself. He had been in the hospital for weeks, and was told to be prepared for the eventuality that he may never walk again. The damage to his leg and hip had been some of the worst the surgeon professed to ever seeing, not to mention the fractured discs in his lower spine.

Almost a year later, Jeff had indeed walked out of hospital, but was told he could never wrestle again. A fact which he had taken hard. Trish remembered how close Jeff had come to resuming his old habits as a drug addict. After al, the abundance of pain medication would have made it all too easy to sink back into the numbness only drugs could offer.

It was because of his then girlfriend, Lana Matthew, that Jeff had pulled through. She had been with him from the beginning, being his strength during his healing and subsequent rehabilitation. When Jeff had been having a bad day, Lana was even more rock steady than normal. She saved him from himself, and they had married soon after. Their son, Eli Aaron Hardy had been born soon after. Jeff had settled into the life as a trainer for the company, and the role of husband and father, something he relished.

But the spark he held for professional wrestling had never dimmed. He secretly dreamed of one day returning to the profession, if just for one more farewell match. And his son was showing promise in being a wrestler himself. It was more than he could have hoped for. Jeff smiled gently at Trish as he readjusted himself in the seat. "It went well. They cleared out most of the crap left in my spine. Plus they worked on my hip a little as well. I'll be as good as new before you know it."

Trish returned the smile, brushing her hand back through her hair. "You're lucky you're alive to be as good as new. How are you here? Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but LA is hardly in the neighbourhood."

Jeff smirked, realising nothing he did would ever get past Trish. "OVW is in town for try-outs. I'm working with the scouts this year, so I'm along for the ride."

Trish nodded, already feeling a mild heart-attack at the thought of OVW being in town. If she knew they were, how long would it be before Riley would know? Not really relishing the prospect of yet another screaming match on her daughter joining the wrestling business, Trish tried to take her mind off it with small-talk. "And how is my Godson doing?"

Jeff's face immediately brightened at the mention of his son. They had both wanted Randy and Trish as God parents, and the pair had happily agreed. "He'd doing great. Well, as great as he can be." Trish raised an eyebrow in at Jeff's words. "He's sixteen years old Trish," Jeff clarified, "and trying to test his old man at every opportunity. He's as rebellious as I was at that age, and ten times the wrestler."

Trish giggled softly at the thought of Eli giving Jeff a hard time. He was definitely his father's son. The same soulful green eyes and handsome, chiselled features. Graced with Lana's dark brown hair and Jeff's good looks, he was bound to break a few hearts as he got older. "Eli is a great kid. You and Lana should be proud that you've raised such a fine young man. Having said that, if he could stop e-mailing my son porn I'd be entirely grateful. I'm getting a little tired of checking my computer and seeing the latest depravity my son is watching, courtesy of Hardy junior."

Jeff blushed, slapping his palm against his head. "Tell me about it. Lana nearly had a fit when she caught him jerking off to some European shit." Both Jeff and Trish chuckled in good humour. "What can I say? Sixteen year old boys. Three guesses on what they think with butterfly." Jeff couldn't help but grin, knowing full well Matt and himself had been just as obsessed at their age. "On the bright side? If they're constantly jerking off to porn, you know they ain't out there doing it."

"If only I had your confidence." Trish rolled her eyes, a thin smile curving her lips. Parker was every inch the playboy. If he didn't keep such close tabs on him, Trish had no doubt he would be out making his porn. _Like father like son._

Jeff nodded, playing with the corner of the table cloth. Silence fell between the pair, each knowing exactly what it was hanging between them. Finally, Jeff realised it would be up to him to ask what he knew had to be asked. "Did you give Randy the papers?"

Trish's expression looked pained for a moment, before regaining her composure. "Yes. I've gave them to him today." Trish had spent the past four weeks agonising over the decision to pursue a divorce from Randy. Jeff had been there for her every step of the way, something which Trish had relied heavily upon. As guilty as she felt for confiding in one of the joint friends, he was the only one Trish felt wouldn't judge her harshly. "It…it didn't go as well as I'd hoped."

"Are you surprised?" Jeff couldn't help but laugh gently at the absurdity of the idea. "You told the man who loves you more than life, that you don't want to be his girl anymore. I can't speak on Randy's behalf, but if Lana did that to me? I'd die of a broken heart."

"Do you think I've made the wrong decision?" Trish's face looked distant and forlorn. As tough as she was, Jeff could tell when she was on breaking point. If he was reading her emotions accurately, Jeff knew she was holding on by a thread.

"I can't answer that for you Trish." Jeff reached across the table, taking Trish's hand in his own. "All I'm saying is that you can't expect this to go smoothly. You guys were in love for the longest time. As bad as things have gotten for you? I don't think that has changed the fact you were made for each other. It's going to tear the two of you apart to break up. But if you think you're doing what's best for you butterfly, you know I'm going to support you. I just want you to be sure."

"I wish I was." Trish sighed gently. "I love him Jeff. I do, even now. That feeling is buried so deep inside that it won't ever come out. But I can't keep living like this. This isn't a marriage. I think by staying married we're just hurting each other needlessly. It's better if we end it. If it means that I have to be the one to do it, then that's what I have to do."

Trish's voice faltered softly, as though she were looking for validation for her own thoughts. "I guess I love him enough to let him go."

"Is that what you really want Trish?" Jeff asked. "Have things really gone past the point of no return."

"It's too late to fix it now. It's just been too long, too many things have happened. Maybe a few years ago we could have fixed it this…" Trish lingered over the thought for perhaps just a little too long. "I just don't know him anymore Jeff. I don't know the man that I'm married to, and kills me. Part of me thinks maybe it would have been better if maybe he had left me for another woman, or we realised we just didn't feel the same way about each other anymore..."

"Go on." Jeff prompted.

"I don't know. It's like our lives took separate paths. He went one way, and I went another. Somewhere along the line, we just forgot to think of each other. It became all about the work and the children, never about each other." Sighing softly, Trish caught the tear tumbling down her cheek before it progressed any further.

Jeff moved his lips to speak, to offer his friend some kind of assurance that things would be okay. All he wanted to do was beg Trish not to go through with the divorce. He knew she was making a mistake. Hell, everyone thought it was a mistake. Surely things couldn't have gotten so far out of hand that it couldn't be fixed? Randy and Trish had always been the relationship that everyone else measured their own against. If those two couldn't make it, who else it could?

It didn't matter at any rate, as Trish slowly stood up out of her seat. "I have to go Jeff. I need to get home and make sure Riley made it back from the party she went to. Stay as long as you like. If you want anything to eat or drink, just tell Abbie and they'll make it for you, free of charge." Looking lost, Trish finally dared to make eye contact with Jeff. "It was good to see you."

Leaning closer, her lips gently brushed at his cheek. Grabbing her purse and jacket, she headed straight for back entrance, leaving Jeff alone in the empty restaurant. Silently, he contemplated what he had just heard from Trish. Deciding there was no way he was going to allow two of his closest friends give up on one another, he realised he would have his work cut out for him.

If his plan was to work, the timing had to be perfect. Realising he less time than he thought, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. If this was going to work, everyone would have to be onboard. They would be, he assured himself. Randy and Trish were perfect together, and Jeff wanted to make sure that was exactly how they would stay.

Together.


	4. To Have And Not To Hold

_**A/N**_**: Oh yes, we're back in business ladies and gentlemen. Apologies for the length of time between updates. Life has an irritating way of taking precedence. But I'm happy so give you a new chapter for your reading pleasure. Please read and review! I disclaim!**

**Coop, this chapter is for you. Your reviews really make my day! **

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The silver _audi_ pulled to a gentle halt in the darkened driveway. In the distance of the properties' acres, the high, metallic black gates swung to a final close, effectively shutting the home in from the outside world. The Hollywood Hills loomed in greyed shadow in the crisp early morning air, the stars twinkling above the area's only illumination. A blue like haze rested as a blanket across the horizon, the first threat of burning pink light creeping over the horizon.

Despite the car being parked, Trish's hands seemed to refuse to let go of the wheel. They simply gripped the circle, her thumbs gently caressing the underside curve of the wheel. Both brown eyes fixed on a point in the distance, and yet saw nothing at all. Even the darkened front of her home didn't register to Trish. All she could do seemingly was to relive the last few moments of her conversation with Randy. It had only been twelve hours ago, yet his words seemed to echo in her ears as though he were speaking them from the seat next to her.

"_Divorce papers? You want to divorce me?"_

"_I've been with my lawyers and they've drawn these up." _Without realising it, Trish mumbled her answer over her own lips, as though she were actually having the conversation all over again. _"It's a fair agreement…"_

Trish's own memories seemed to be playing an especially cruel trick on her at this hour. The scene from her memory suddenly became one of so long ago that Trish was surprised she even recalled it at all. And yet, it seemed more fitting now than it had back then. It was as though her own words seemed to hold an even bigger weight with her than they had in the past, as she had prophesised what was to come.

"_You're wrong Randy. I don't shut people out, I just don't put myself in situations where I can easily be hurt. That's my reasoning for keeping emotionally distant from people…"_

Was that what she was doing now? Shutting Randy out of her life forever, just to protect herself from being hurt? If that were true, maybe it was her fault that she and the man she had been in love with for so long had drifted away from another. Had she started this? By shutting herself down out of some misguided fear of being hurt, had Trish herself pushed Randy away? Was that why Randy had done his best to keep his distance from her? Because she had endeavoured to create an impassable gulf between them?

Without realising it, Trish had unbuckled her seatbelt and swung the door open. Hands fumbling in the seat next to her, Trish's outstretched fingers found the handle and snatched into her palm. Kicking the door to a close with her foot, Trish scurried across the lawn to reach the meandering stone path that lead to the front door. Low rising lamps stuck up along the edge of the path, casting wide pools of light to illuminate the way. Looking up at her house, Trish was presented with a wall of darkness. There was no discernable activity on the inside. Glancing at her watch, she was pleased it was so. It was getting close to five in the morning. Without realising it, Trish had been driving around for the best part of two hours before coming home.

Still, Trish reasoned that Riley should have been home hours ago, and so she and Parker should be in bed, fast asleep.

With that in mind, Trish quietly eased her key into the lock, opening the door as softly as she humanly could. The faint click indicated the door was now open, and Trish slipped inside. A muffled thud meant that the door was now closed once more. Taking a few steps forward, Trish peered into her home. The hallway was swallowed by darkness, a full curtain of black that bled up the stairs and hid the next floor from view. Taking a few moments to adjust to the lack of light, Trish suddenly remembered the alarm. To her left, the green light blinked repeatedly in darkness. Her fingers touched over the key pad, reprogramming the alarm to be set once more.

Gently placing her keys down on the near by table, Trish became aware of the gentle illumination coming from beneath the kitchen door. The impressive hallway stretched forward, ending beneath the curve of the stairway where the door to the kitchen was located. The crack where the door didn't quite meet the wooden flooring betrayed whoever it was on the other side. Shoulder the straps of her purse, Trish crept across the floor, walking on the balls of her feet to ensure her heels did not click against the floor.

Grasping the door handle, Trish pulled it open a crack, causing a wave of the kitchen light to spill out in the doorway. Her own face became half visible in the light, the rest hidden in the shadows of the hall. Trish's brown eyes swept over the kitchen, finally resting on Riley. Sat at the island in the centre of the kitchen, her hand gripped tightly to a spoon which she dug into the rather huge tub of ice cream before her. A bag of half eaten potato chips as well as several candy wrappers were strewn over the island, leading Trish to believe her daughter had been having something of a midnight feast. Both of Riley's brown eyes were fixed on the television in the corner wall that she hadn't seen her mother, not even as Trish walked further into the kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Trish's voice was soft, lacking any real parental tone. It still startled Riley however, who lost grip of the spoon retreating from her mouth. It tumbled down onto the black granite surface with a metallic clatter.

"I couldn't sleep," Riley admitted. Tugging at the neck of her nightdress, she watched her mother with interest. "You're late home. Everything okay?"

Trish nodded silently as she crossed to the refrigerator. Pulling back the huge white door, her head vanished inside. It returned after a second, along with the bottle of orange juice that Trish not held. "I'm fine sweetheart. Just had a lot on my mind with the restaurant and everything."

Hoping up onto a stool opposite Riley, Trish removed the cap from her juice, taking a long drink of the golden orange liquid. "Parker in bed?" Riley nodded, her mouth obscured by the spoon filling it with more ice cream. "How was Jeremy's party? Did you have a good time?"

"It was okay I guess." Riley shrugged her shoulders softly as she traced the tip of her spoon across the mountains of ice cream she had created within the tub. "I wasn't in a great mood, so I didn't really have the best time."

Trish nodded, replacing the cap on her juice. "Something you want to talk about?"

Riley regarded her mother with a knowing look. The way her eyebrow arched onto her forehead reminded Trish of Randy. He would look at her that way when she was being petulant. Trish had been expecting this moment since this afternoon, but still said nothing. If she was about to be on the receiving end of a tirade from her seventeen year old daughter, she certainly wasn't about to actively encourage it. "Not really."

It was Trish's turn to arch her eyebrow. _So much for not encouraging it, _she mused. "Riley, if you have something to say, you may as well come out with it. You're not pretty when you sit there scowling at me."

"Why did you have to show up this afternoon Mom?" Riley heard the childish whine in her voice, and was powerless to stop it continuing. "You couldn't have called or sent me a text message to say Dad was in town. I could have met you a couple of blocks away from the school or something. You didn't have to just sit outside the school and embarrass me in front of everyone."

"Embarrass you?" Trish couldn't help but chuckle. "Baby, wait till you have a teenager daughter making out with her football player boyfriend in front of the entire world. Then you'll know how it feels to be embarrassed."

"I wasn't making out with him!" Riley quickly defended. "And even if I was, I'm a big girl Mom. I can kiss Jeremy wherever I want to."

"If you say so honey." Trish knew Riley hated it when she dismissed her in that way. But it wasn't exactly high on the list of her things to care about. She would rather Riley be mad at her for brushing it aside than the pair of them breaking down into a screaming match of who was right.

Riley glared across the table at Trish, who simply smiled in response. "And believe it or not Riley, I was not sat outside with the intention of embarrassing you as you seem to think. Believe it or not, I actually do have better things to do with my time than actively thwart my daughters' attempt at social climbing." Riley snorted with indignance as she shovelled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. "I got the call that your Dad was here when I was near the school. I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone and pick you and Parker up there and then. It just seemed easier at the time."

"How many times have I asked you not to show up in front of my friends? It's humiliating." Riley sighed with dramatic flair, trying to make a point.

So busy in performing the martyr role, Riley missed the look of hurt that crossed her mother's face. What parent liked to be told that their own children were ashamed to be seen with them? It wasn't as though Trish cared if Riley's friends thought of her as a 'cool' mother, but the idea of Riley being ashamed of her stung worse than if her daughter had slapped her across the face. Shrugging it off, Trish plastered another smile across her face. "You're right. I'm sorry Riley. I forgot you'd said that. It won't happen again, I promise."

"Thank you." Riley stated. As a peace offering, Riley nudged the tub of ice cream, spoon and all across the island towards her mother. Trish accepted it, digging into the tub herself.

Placing the spoon in her mouth, Trish moaned in appreciation of the flavour. "Cookie dough. Excellent choice."

Riley nodded appreciatively. "So, guess who I saw at the party." Trish inclined her head at the rhetorical question. "Lucas."

"Lucas? How is he? I haven't seen him since we went to visit Aunt Candice last year." Trish smiled at the memory of her friend. It had been too long since she'd seen Candice and her family. Making a mental note to call her this weekend, Trish focused back on Riley.

"He's really good. He got called up to WWE and everything." Riley beamed at her mother, who returned the glowing smile. "He's gotten really big too - like huge. I'm pretty sure his arms are bigger than Uncle John's now." Riley used her hands to demonstrate the thickness of Lucas's arms. John Cena was well known for having powerfully big arms, one of the features on her man that Candice Michelle couldn never get enough of. Trish couldn't help but smirk of the stories Candice used to her about John using the strength in his arms to hold her off of her feet against the wall so he could ravish her. "Like seriously? When he hugged me, they felt massive, like two tree trunks around my body. It was amazing."

"Oh really," Trish commented, a wicked smirk on her lips. "Felt that good did it?" Riley's face flushed with colour as she realised what her mother was getting at. "How come you and Lucas never got together? He's a handsome boy, just like his Dad. He's sweet, kind, polite and such a gentleman. I always said he'd make some girl a great husband one day."

"Mom, if you're that taken with him, why don't you ask him out? I'm pretty sure he's single." Trish chuckled as she ate more ice cream. "Besides, I don't think he likes me in that way. I'm not saying he isn't hot. I totally crushed out on him when I was fifteen, and his body now is totally lickable. But it'd be like dating your own brother. We're too close to ever be together like that."

Trish sighed as she pushed the ice cream back across to Riley. "Shame."

Riley's eyes narrowed as she regarded her mother. "And what, may I ask brought that on? Have you forgotten I'm with Jeremy?" Trish made a show of rolling her eyes at the mention of Jeremy's name. "What was that for? What's wrong with Jeremy?"

Trish shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing. I just don't like the boy. Can't help it if I don't think he's right for you. Mother's prerogative and all. There's just something about him that makes my skin crawl. And I know he's not good enough for you."

"Are you crazy? He's Jeremy freakin' Williams." The reputation was lost on Trish, causing Riley's voice to reach a decibel that only dogs could hear. "He is only like the hottest guy in the entire state, and he's my boyfriend. Not good enough for me? Mom, I am so lucky that he's my boyfriend. If anything, I'm not good enough for him."

"Riley Kendall Orton!" Trish snapped, causing Riley to flinch back on her stool. "I never, ever want to hear you say something so foolish ever again. Do you understand me? Don't you dare say you're not good enough for him, or for any boy for that matter. That little poser is lucky you gave him the time of day, let alone be his girlfriend. No-one is too good for my daughter, and I will kick the ass of anyone who says otherwise. And don't you ever forget it young lady."

Riley smiled softly, wishing she had the confidence in herself that her mother had in her. Deciding to get back on topic, she plunged her spoon into the tub of ice cream again. "So Lucas is in town with Dad for the OVW tryouts."

"So is your Uncle Jeff." Trish interrupted, causing Riley to grin at Jeff Hardy's name. Where Parker idolised John Cena, Riley had always been as close to Jeff as Trish was. He in turn loved Riley like his own daughter, and was incredibly prone to spoiling her at any given opportunity.

"Really? That is so cool! I haven't seen Uncle Jeff for ages. Will come visit us before they move on?" Riley didn't give Trish a chance to answer as she continued to talk. "Anyway, Daddy is in charge of the tryouts this year, so Lucas told me. That's cool, don't you think?"

"Riley." Trish's voice was laced with an unspoken warning that wasn't lost on her daughter. The girl would be trying her luck if she pushed further.

"What?" Riley responded, trying to sound as innocent as she possibly could. It was most likely a waste of time, considering the usual conversations Riley and Trish had when it came to the OVW. They weren't so much conversations as all out scream battles. Riley was far too tired to begin such a verbal onslaught, and hoped her mother felt the same.

"We've talked about this many times, and my answer is not going to change. So if you're thinking about using your father's position as a way to get me to agree to you trying out this year, you may as well stop now. The answer is still, and will always be no. You are not trying out for the OVW and that's final." Trish relaxed back on the stool, folding her arms across her chest. It was time be authoritarian Trish. She was fully expecting Riley to launch into a fit over it, but that was nothing new. She would not budge and inch on this.

Much to Trish's surprise and abject shock, Riley shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "That wasn't what I was going to say. I just thought it was cool that Daddy has some more responsibility, y'know?"

"You were?" Trish heard the sound of incredulity in her voice, and wished it wasn't so obvious. However she couldn't help it. She knew her daughter, and Riley was hell-bent on getting into the world of professional wrestling. If try-outs were being held in this state, with her father no less being in charge, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to get her way.

"Yeah. That's all it was." Riley nodded, smiling innocently as licked a stray smear of ice cream from the spoon. "Anyways, I've been thinking the whole wrestling thing, and I'm not so sure if it's what I want right now."

Trish looked utterly shocked, evident by the fact that her jaw hung open. "Jeremy and I were talking about it, and he said maybe it would be better for me to go to college first. Get my education in something, and then decide what I want to do. I mean it's not like I'm stupid. I'm good at a bunch of stuff other than wrestling. I think he's right. I should go to college first and then figure out what I want to do."

"Are you kidding me?" Trish looked completely defeated, her brown eyes widened to bursting point. "I have being saying to you for years to go to college first. Even when you first said you wanted to be a wrestler, which was nine years old by the way, I told you that it was better for you to go to college first. That way you'd be educated and could do whatever you wanted." Riley looked blankly at Trish. "Of course, because the infallible Jeremy says so you suddenly think it's a good idea. I give up sometimes, I really do."

Trish shook her head, to which Riley simply shrugged. "Well whoever came up with it, it's a good plan." Trish nodded weakly in agreement. "I was thinking about the try outs anyway. And I figured that…well as they are in town for a couple of weeks, maybe…Daddy could come and stay with us until they move on to the next city?"

Trish visibly stiffened as her head processed what Riley had suggested. Part of her wished that Riley had actually started on about OVW again. That would have been so much easier to deal with, despite the screaming, that this. "Baby…I'm not sure if that's the best idea right now. I know you miss your father, and I'm sorry that this is hard on you and your brother. But him coming to stay here with us is not really an option. I'm sorry."

Riley look crestfallen, her entire body seemed to shrink just that little bit before Trish's eyes. That was obviously not the answer she had been expecting, but it was the only one she was going to get from Trish. "Maybe you and Parker could go stay with him? Whichever hotel he's at, I'm sure he'd love to have you with him for a couple of days."

"Yeah, maybe." Riley mumbled, stabbing at the ice cream with her spoon. Disappointment and anger radiated from her. Trish knew that Riley blamed her solely for Randy being absent from their family. Trish saying no to her suggestions really wasn't helping matters.

But it was impossible for Randy to stay here. It would be too hard for both of them, Trish reasoned. Not to mention the fact it would give both children false hopes. Parker especially would be devastated by having his family back together, only for it to break apart again. Trish wondered if she should Riley the truth about the day, and the real reason why Randy could stay at their home. After all, surely Riley deserved to know that her parents were going to get a divorce. "Riley, I -…"

Riley spoke before Trish could complete her sentence. It was a blessing in a way, as Trish wasn't sure how she going to tell her daughter what was really going on. "It's fine Mom, really. I get it. You don't want him here. It's your house after all. Parker and I will just have to suffer for you to get your own way. Nothing new there."

"Riley, that's not fair." Trish sighed. Couldn't Riley understand how unreasonable she was being? She was hurting, and Trish understood that, but so were all of them. Riley wasn't the only person dealing with the crumbling of the marriage. And it wasn't as though Trish wanted things to be this way. Quite the opposite. Trish would have done anything to have her family back again. But there were harsh truths that Trish had long since face. There were some things that you simply could not fix, and Trish had accepted her marriage as being one of them. Riley would just have to learn to deal with it, the same way she had had to.

"I'm going to bed." Dropping the spoon down onto the work surface, Riley slid down off the stool and marched out of the kitchen. Turning at the door, she shot her mother one venomous glance, before disappearing into the darkness of the hallway. The door slammed loudly behind her, Trish's body flinching at the sound.

That had not gone well at all. Resting her elbows on the granite surface, Trish's head fell into her hands. Her chest heaved with a silent sob that she refused to let go. She didn't have the luxury of being hurt or feeling lonely. She was a mother, and had to be strong for her children. Especially considering that they were still in the dark concerning the divorce. Things were definitely going to get worse before they got better.

Safe upstairs in her own room, Riley carefully shut the door. Dropping down onto her bed, she gathered her knees to her, resting them against her chest. If she couldn't sleep before, Riley knew there was no way she would now. She was far too angry to sleep.

How could her mother continue to be so stubborn and hurtful? When was she going to realise that it wasn't all about her and what she wanted. Riley missed her father, and it hurt to know that he was so close yet so far away from her. If her mother wasn't as stubborn as she was, Riley knew things would be better.

But that was never going to happen. As far as Riley was concerned, Trish had successfully forced her father out of their lives. It must be a simple game to her to make sure he stayed out of it, regardless of how much it hurt both her and Parker.

Well Riley was tired of living under her mother's rules. If she insisted on keeping Randy out of their lives, then Riley was going to take matters into her own hands. If she couldn't bring her father back home, then she would just have to go to him. She had successfully evaded her mother when it came to OVW, and that was just the beginning. Soon, Riley knew she would succeed in her try out and finally get into the professional wrestling world, in defiance of her mother. She would run away into the waiting arms of her father and live happily ever after with him and her career in the WWE.

Lying back, Riley rested her head on the pillows. As she did so, she couldn't help but smile at the brilliance of her plan. Her mother had no idea what was coming, and by the time she found out, it would be too late. Riley would be eighteen years old and living her own dream with her father, far away from her.

And the best part, as far as Riley was concerned? There would be nothing Trish Orton could do to stop it.


	5. Crashed

**A/N****: Hey guys and gals! Apologies for the uber-length of time it has taken to get this chapter up. With so many stories going on, I'm writing a bit of a chapter at a time. I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but here is an update for your reading pleasure.**

**I have to say, I love how you guys have warmed to this story - to the point where you're guessing what's to come. I love you guys for it and it really makes my day. Without giving too much away, some of you are surprisingly accurate with predicting what I've got planned for this story. I think I need to lock away my outline because I'm sure some of you are reading it…**

**And wow! I'm definitely feeling the Riley/Lucas love here. Interesting. Very interesting…**

**This chapter and the next were originally going to be one, but it was just too damn long so I've split them in two.**

**Coop, I hope you like this one, and thank you Maia. Welcome to the family ;)**

**I disclaim! Please read and review guys!**

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"Maisy, don't even start defending her! She is the most evil, domineering woman ever to have set foot on God's green earth. And she does it while looking better in Gucci than I do! Where is the justice?!"

On the other end of the line, Riley could hear the tell-tale chuckle of her friend Madison Cena. She could imagine the crinkles appearing on either side of her blue eyes, the way they always did when she gave that throaty laugh, which curved her mouth into a beaming smile. "Ro, you know I love you like a sister no matter what. But you really need to give your mom a break."

Riley huffed through her pursed lips. _Ro_ was the affectionate nickname Madison had given Riley when they were children. Both using the other's initials, Madison had become MC, whilst Riley became Ro. Usually when Madison used the name, Riley became nostalgic and smiled like a fool. Now however, she found it to be a mildly dirty trick used by her oldest friend in an attempt to calm her down. And damn her if it wasn't working.

Pressing her cell-phone between her ear and her shoulder, Riley struggled to balance the ever increasing pile of books in her hands whilst retrieving another thick volume from her locker. Coming towards the end of her free period, she had again left it as long as humanly possible to get her books before heading to her next class. As it was, she was struggling to return her science books to take out her geography text book. _Why the hell did they have to make the damn things so big? _

Grunting with effort, Riley shoved the last of the books back into the locker before slamming it shut against the falling avalanche. Making a mental note to step aside the next time she opened her locker - lest she get pelted with books, Riley shouldered her bag. "Why should I? It's not like she's giving me one, is it? I can't understand why she's getting so anally retentive about me breaking into the business?"

"It's not a bad idea for you to go to college first is it?" Maisy countered. A slight crackle on the line reminded both girls of the distance between them. Riley, all the way over in California, had called Maisy in Massachusetts earlier that morning. They were about as far away from each other as they could possibly get, as evidenced by the less than perfect reception.

"That's not the point," Riley fired back, "it should be _my_ choice what I do, not hers. I mean she was thrilled to hear about Lucas getting on television in the WWE. Why not me? There is such blatant hypocrisy in her being over the moon when it's someone else's kid, but totally against it when it's her own freakin' daughter! I mean honestly, I may as well have asked to run off and join the Swedish stripper's circus for the reaction I get."

Maisy chuckled on the other end of the line. "She's your mom Riley. She's allowed to be all split-personality when it comes to her own children. You ought to have heard how my mom kicked off when Lucas said he wanted to wrestle."

"You're kidding me?" Riley replied, honestly shocked at the idea of Lucas' parents being anything other than thrilled that their child was hoping to follow in the family occupational footsteps.

"Seriously girl. I swear the air turned blue from the expletives my Mom yelled at my Dad because he encouraged Lucas." Again Maisy chuckled, the same dirty laugh that made anyone listening to it laugh as well. "Still, Dad convinced her what a great idea it is for Lucas to be a wrestler. I'm actually convinced he wants both of us to be wrestlers. I swear one night, I woke up to him measuring me for my wrestling trunks."

Now it was Riley's turn to laugh. "Shut up Maisy. He so did not."

"Okay maybe he didn't. But still, watch out for the _'Cena-Bunch' _Tag Team." in the background, Riley heard someone speaking to Maisy, distracting her attention. "Ro, I gotta go. Apparently my Spanish teacher wants to see me. I guess he didn't like the answer I gave in my last test on what I do on my weekends."

Judging from Maisy's giggle, Riley guessed that the teacher probably had good reason to take exception to whatever she had written. "What did you say Maisy?"

"Nothing." She replied. Riley was sure she could 'hear' the innocent expression on her friends' face. "Only that I happen to do street-corner pole dancing sessions in crotch-less panties."

Riley exploded with laughter. "You bad girl. Still, props if you got the words right in Spanish. Call me later?"

Madison chuckled. "Sure thing. Love you bitch."

"Love you too Maisy. Bye." With a sigh, Riley lifted the phone from her ear and studied it for a moment. With a final shrug of her shoulders, she snapped it shut and dropped it in her bag. The conversation hadn't exactly done the way she had wanted. Why was it that everyone insisted on defending her mother? Was Riley really that wrong about her? No. She couldn't be. It was everyone else that was wrong. They just didn't know what it was like to live with Trish Orton as your mother. If they did, they'd known exactly where Riley was coming from.

Glancing up from her musing, Riley slowly began to meander her way to the next class.

It was only when she turned a corner that she became aware of the looks she was getting from her fellow students. The milling teenagers, either walking past or standing alone in groups looked at Riley, before hurrying away in the opposite direction, laughing into their sleeves. Those standing in groups took one look at her and whispered venomously in their little groups, casting knowing glances her way. It was enough to make anyone paranoid.

Aware of so many eyes on her, Riley folded her arms across her chest, quickening her pace. Glancing down at her shoes, she made sure that there was nothing stuck to the bottom. She was wearing _killer_ jeans so there was no way anything could be tucked into the back of her underwear. Both _girls _were firmly held within her bra, but with enough on display through her tank top to get a reaction. Just not the kind she was getting. So what the hell was everyone gossiping about?

Turning a corner, Riley was finally getting sick of the reactions after passing a group of grinning football players making obscene gestures. Stopping, she made a beeline towards the nearest group of sniggering girls who were watching her. It was now past amusing and was plain getting on her nerves. Obviously they all knew something she didn't, and it was infuriating. If she had to beat it out of someone, she would find out what was going on. Just as Riley was planning on giving the nearest blonde skank a piece of her mind, she was utterly blindsided by an unknown force. "Hey! What the hell -…"

From her left, a brunette blur barrelled Riley into the nearest door way. Stumbling on her feet, Riley managed to right herself before toppling to the ground. Her bag wasn't as lucky, and fell to the classroom floor, spilling several of its contents across the floor. Cursing, she dropped to her knees and began scooping things up as her eyes narrowed. Glaring upwards, her face automatically softened as she recognised Melody, who was now closing the door to the empty classroom. Dropping to her knees in front of Riley, she began helping her friend retrieve her scattered items.

"Melody, do feel like explaining the football tackle?" Riley smirked at her friend, her fingers closing around the tube of her lip gloss that had rolled under the nearest desk. "You may have cracked a rib, by the way." Catching Melody's eyes, Riley felt a stab of worry hit her squarely in the chest as her friend failed to even smile at her joke. In fact, Melody's face looked anything but happy. She looked down right grim.

"Sorry Riley," Melody began, handing Riley her cell-phone. "I just needed to get you out of the hallway so I could tell you this."

"Tell me what?" Riley's voice remained even, but inside she was screaming. Warning bells were already blaring inside her skull, and nothing had been said yet. The fact was, Melody did not run for anyone. Literally. She would sooner burn to death in a burning building that risk ruining her stilettos by running to safety. For her to come running to find Riley, something must seriously be up.

"Okay, I wanted you to hear this from me before anyone else told you." Melody's expression bordered on fearful as her eyes met those of Riley. _So there is something everyone else knows that I don't,_ Riley mused. "You are really not going to like what I'm about to tell you, and I really wish I wasn't telling you this…but it's better you hear it from me and not _her_."

The way Melody said the word her made Riley's stomach turn. Still, she chose to remain silent and allowed her friend to continue with her explanation. "Savannah has been going around this morning telling everyone that…that…" Melody read the expression in Riley's eyes and felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. Why did the best friend have the job of giving such shitty news? "…that she slept with Jeremy after his party on Friday."

Riley's expression remained frozen for what seemed like an eternity to Melody. Worrying that her friend had slipped into some kind of catatonia, she breathed a sigh of relief as Riley finally blinked, her face becoming animated once more. "That's absolute bullshit. I was with him the entire night," Riley stammered, "and…and he would never…not with Savannah? Right?"

"That's exactly what I said, " Melody concurred, shaking her head grimly. "But then someone sent me this." Taking her cell-phone from her purse, Melody handed the device over to her friend. Selecting the videos, the little clip she had received this morning began playing for Riley.

All at once, Riley's world seemed to come crashing down in front of her face. It was plain and irrefutable before her very eyes. From the video's angle, Riley realised Jeremy was filming he and Savannah from the bed. The cell-phone was aimed towards the full length mirror near the bed, capturing the reflection in all its sordid glory. Savannah was bent down onto the mattress, her face pressed into the covers whilst the round of her bottom stuck up into the air. Jeremy was clearly taking her from behind, thrusting powerfully into her. One hand slapped the cheek of her rear, whilst the other proudly held the phone upwards to capture the moment.

The scene of her boyfriend screwing someone else wasn't what hurt the most for Riley. It wasn't the sound of Savannah groaning like a pig, or even Jeremy commenting on how _'sweet and hot' _she was. It was the smile plastered across his handsome face that sent a thousand spears into her heart. That grin, that she had seen so many times before, was cocky an assured. He was the man, and he knew it. He was having his disgusting way with one of the prettiest girls in school, and filming the entire thing. The only slight issues was, that the piece he was banging just happened not to be his girlfriend.

Slowly snapping the phone shut as Jeremy began to pull on Savannah's hair, Riley knew she couldn't watch anymore for fear of vomiting. Her blood felt like it was running cold in her very veins. How could this be happening? How could Jeremy do this to her, with Savannah of all people?

Her mind buzzing with questions, Riley hesitantly lifted her tear-filled eyes to Melody, who looked heartbroken for her. "I am so sorry Riley. Savannah has been sending this to the entire school. Everyone has got it. I only knew it existed because Jared blabbed."

"Oh my god," Riley muttered, catching a stray tear that had found it's way from her eyes down the round of her cheek. "Oh god. Oh no…" Riley's hands lowered, resting flat on her thighs as her gaze became focused on nothing at all. Her heat pounding inside her chest sent fresh waves of agony through her, mixed with a numbing nausea that settled over her with all the care of a comforter.

"Let's get you to the girl's room." Melody offered, struggling to pull Riley to her feet. The single tear had seemingly been the tip of the ice burg, as the flood had well and truly broken free.

Riley made no sound as she cried. She simply walked in silence back out into the hallway as the tears fell uncontrollably down her cheeks. Melody had one arm around her friend's lower back, carefully guiding her towards the nearest bathroom. Her venomous glances made sure that everyone else in the hallway kept their distance and out of their way. Indeed, she was just waiting for someone to say or do the wrong thing so she could explode at them. Melody was seething, boiling in anger for the way her best friend had been treated. And she vowed if it was the last thing she ever did, it would be to break that stupid face on Jeremy Williams.

As luck would have it, Melody wouldn't have to wait too long. She heard the sound of Jeremy before she actually saw him. Tearing her eyes away from the tear stained face of her friend, she glared with utter hatred at the approaching figure of Jeremy. He was running at full speed down the hallway towards them, legs pumping as he barrelled everyone out of his way.

Riley looked like a dear caught in the headlights, searching for somewhere she could hide. Pitifully, her gaze fell onto Melody, silently begging her best friend for help. It was too late as Jeremy skidded to a stop before them. His expression was pained, both almond shaped eyes creased into an expression of pain. Stepping close to Riley, he cupped her face in his hands. His breath was sweet and warm on her face, and it only made Riley want to vomit all the harder. "Baby," he whispered gently, "I am so sorry."

"Save it you cheating scumbag," Melody hissed, "Riley has nothing to say to you. Not now, not ever. Just move out of the way." Despite her shorter stature, Melody did her best to shoulder Jeremy out of the way so she could get to Riley. Jeremy didn't budge, his chest too broad and powerful for Melody's actions to have any effect.

Glaring down at the brunette, Jeremy turned his attention back to the face of his tearful girlfriend. "Riley, say something. Tell me what I need to do to make this up to you baby. I was a fool, and I'm sorry. I was drunk and Savannah just wouldn't take no for answer. She means nothing to me."

The words tumbled at an alarming rate over Jeremy's lips. They fell however on Riley's numb ears. Even if she actually could forgive him, there was no way she could process what he was staying. She was lost in the nightmare world of her head, where the scene of her boyfriend thrusting into another girl played over and over to drive her to the brink of insanity.

"Just go away," Melody barked, aware of the gathering crowd of students around them. This was going to get ugly, and the last thing the scene needed as an audience, "she obviously does not want to talk to you. Can't you see how upset she is by this? Why don't you just back off Jeremy?"

"Why don't you shut the hell up you little bitch and let me talk to my girl." Both Jeremy's eyes were deathly cold as he stared down at Melody, causing her to visibly flinch.

"Don't talk to her like that." Jeremy's face flushed with shock at the soft mumble of Riley's voice. It was like a switch had gone off behind her eyes, and she immediately slapped both his hands away from her face. "Don't you dare talk to my best friend like that."

"Riley, baby -…" Jeremy stumbled to find the words, but Riley clearly wasn't interested.

"There is nothing you can say to me that won't make me hate you Jeremy, so just save your breath okay?" Brushing back the tears from her cheeks, Riley felt anger bubbling in her stomach. It was dangerously close to exploding at any second.

"Riley, you don't understand," Jeremy countered, grasping for one of her hands, "I made a mistake. You know you're the only one I care about - the only one that I want to be with. We can get past this, can't we baby?"

"You call me baby one more time and I will smack your teeth out of your lying face." Riley's voice took on a deathly cold quality, sending a shudder down Jeremy's spine. He looked around him for support, but found none. Melody continued to glare at him, arms folded across her body. And whether they were his friends crowding around him or not, everyone standing around was just there to see it all kick off. "I found out from a video on a fucking cell phone Jeremy! One which you took? If she meant nothing to you why the hell did you record it you moron?"

Riley's voice was dangerously close to screaming. "Riley, please. You weren't meant to find out that way." The whine in his voice made Riley want to smash his face into a locker.

"If I hadn't seen the video, would you have told me at all?" Jeremy remained silent, unable to meet Riley's eyes. That told her everything she needed to know. Desperately trying to keep her cool, she grabbed Melody by the arm, wanting to shove her way through the crowd to get out of there. Riley vowed not to start crying again. Jeremy did not deserve the satisfaction of seeing her break.

It was not to be it seemed, as Savannah's grinning face melted through the crowd to be stood right in front of Riley. Immediately, her body tensed, both fists clenched painfully tight at her sides as she stared into the smirking face of Savannah. "You seriously don't want to be here right now…" Riley's voice was a threatening growl, but it only served to amuse Savannah.

She flaunted past Riley to wrap herself around Jeremy. He looked uncomfortable at best, making pathetic movements to detach her from him. "Come on now princess," Savannah mocked, "we all knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Jeremy was never right for you. You're just not enough woman for him."

Savannah's voice purred as she traced her finger over Jeremy's chest. Melody expected her friend to explode, but a thin smile spread over Riley's hardened features. "You mean I'm the kind of woman that can keep her legs together, and it's doubtful if your legs have ever met?"

Savannah's face faltered slightly, as a gentle titter of laughter rippled through the crowd of students. "Make fun all you want Riley, Jeremy chose me. He called me up after you refused to put out on Friday. And let's just say I didn't something a little princess like you never would." Her little pink tongue slid out over her gloss covered bottom lip as her finger twirled on a platinum blonde hair extension.

Eyes narrowed, Riley glared from Savannah to Jeremy and back again. "This is what you cheated on me with?" Riley's attention was suddenly on Jeremy again, her eyes boring into his. "This gutter slut? Honestly Jeremy, couldn't you have picked someone with a little more self respect. It would have been one thing if she was prettier than me, or had a better body or something…but it's…its Savannah!"

Laughter was more bold in the surrounding students, earning venomous glances from Savannah. Jeremy looked mortified, his face flushed crimson as he finally nudged Savannah off him. "Riley, I'm sorry. I'm a guy okay? I have needs…needs which you weren't meeting. Can you blame me for finding it from somewhere else?"

The crowd was shocked into silence. Inside, Riley was dying, but she refused to show it holding the cold mask of contempt on her face perfectly. "Do you know why I never gave it up to you Jeremy?" Taking another step closer, Riley's mouth curled into a snarl. "Do you? I know you think I'm some prude, but you've got it so wrong."

Now Riley was face to face with Jeremy, her lips and inch away from his. Her eyes held his in an icy stare which he could not break. "The reason we never slept together Jeremy, is that I don't fuck losers."

The crowd whooped in cheers, but Jeremy felt as though he were underwater. Right before his eyes, Riley turned on her heel preparing to march away and never come back. Well there was no way in hell he was going to let her speak to him like that and get away with it. No-one embarrassed him like that. Snaking his powerful arm out, he caught Riley in a vice grip. Forcing her to spin around to face him, he glared down into her face. "How fuckin' dare you," he spat, eyes blazing. "Who are you to fucking talk to me like that? Did your loser father teach you to give such bullshit attitude?"

Taken aback by his words, Riley's eyes narrowed into slits. The heartbreak and anguish faded away for just a moment. All that was left was burning anger. "No he didn't." She replied with a wicked smile. "He taught me this!"

Taking a step back, Riley balanced her weight on her back leg. Years of training flowed through her body as the muscles in her arm tensed. Drawing her right arm back, she swung it forward in a tight fist. It connected with crushing force into Jeremy's face, and his nose did not survive the impact. He groaned in pain, staggering backwards hands covering his nose that spewed with blood. Swinging her leg up, Riley caught Jeremy right between the thighs, hitting him where it would hurt a guy the most.

Jeremy's hands fell straight to his crotch, his mouth a silent 'O'. Eye bulgig above his swollen purple nose, he sank to his knees whimpering in pain. Riley's head turned slowly, her gaze falling across the screeching Savannah. She was speaking so quickly Riley couldn't make out the words, but she didn't really care. Swinging her arm again, she caught Savannah across the jaw with a biting back hand. The false blonde flailed to the ground, much to the cheers of the people around her.

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and Riley didn't understand why. As her eyes fell across another figure in the crowd, a cold feeling of dread doused the anger burning in her stomach. Making his way through the crowd was Riley's history teacher, Mr. Scott. Both his beady eyes regarded Riley with an excited contempt. She'd always known that he had it out for her. And now he had the excuse that he needed. With one pudgy finger, he motioned for Riley to follow him.

_Great, _Riley mused as she trudged forward_, that idiot has got exactly what he wants, and is now going to expell me for fighting, despite the fact that they both deserved far worse. _A terrifying thought took hold in Riley's mind, one which was worse that learning of Jeremy cheating on her or that she was about to get kicked out of school.

_My_ _Mom is going to kill me._


	6. Consequences

**Impossible Princess**

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"…Trish, did you even hear a word I just said?"

"Huh?"

The response was more than enough the let the man sat opposite Trish Orton know she had been doing anything but paying attention. Her chocolate brown eyes focused on him, coming back from whatever dream haze they had been in moments before. Her expression softened into one of immediate apology. "I'm sorry Troy. I was…somewhere else. You were saying?"

Troy Mackenzie flashed Trish a heart stopping smile. Pushing back a tousle of his sandy blonde hair, he tossed his head from side to side in a gentle chuckle. Troy had been Trish's lawyer for the past seven years, and had done a damn fine job. She fondly remembered their first meeting all those years ago. Sat in a particularly brutal board meeting, Trish had been supposedly discussing her choice of a personal lawyer. Becoming a client of the prestigious DeWitt-Augustine Law association, she had her pick of any number of top lawyers in the country.

Troy had breezed into the room. A fresh faced twenty-nine year old law graduate, his sparkling green eyes and unkempt blonde hair won over the hearts of any women within ten feet. His suit spoke of enviable wealth, yet the way his shaggy hair hung down below his ears accompanied by a devilish smile made him seen anything but the stuffy lawyer type Trish had been expecting. He had proceeded to tell the board room how Trish's previous legal team had been negligent in their duties. This came complete with examples of how other companies had been ripping off the _House of Tao. _Troy had promised Trish that he would be the best lawyer she ever had.

Trish hired him on the spot.

Seven years later, Troy was now a partner in DeWitt-Augustine one of the few people privy to Trish's personal life. He had been with her every step of the way since her estrangement with her husband, and had been more than instrumental when it came to the divorce. Once Trish had finally drummed up the courage to decide this was what she actually wanted, he had taken care of the rest. The divorce papers had been drawn up in record time, and Troy had even offered to personally hand deliver them to Randy. Of course Trish refused, but she was slightly relieved that he was as dedicated to his job as he was.

Troy was a rock of strength to Trish at times when things became too awkward with her friends to discuss her marital problems. A sympathetic ear with a handsome face and sound legal advice. A winning combination by anyone's standards.

"I was saying, if Randy doesn't put up a fight, we can get this through the courts with minimal fuss." Troy smiled softly, a few lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. "As long as you're sure you want to go through with this."

Trish considered the question. Did she want to go through with this? The ramifications of what would happen weren't exactly lost on her. She would forever lose the love of her life, and would probably alienate her children to the point where they would leave her. But was the alternative any better? Stuck in this miserable limbo for another ten years? If she still had any scrap of dignity left, Trish knew she could not and would not do this to herself. She had been pushed into a corner. Divorce was never nice, but she was beginning to understand sometimes it was the only answer.

"This is what I want." She answered softly, wishing it was enough to quieten the fears screaming inside her head.

Trish didn't even know she was crying until Troy gently wrapped his arms around her. She surrendered to his embrace, burying her head against his chest - wishing it was Randy who was holding her. How and things come to this? How did Trish allow what was supposed to be the love of her life become the bane of her existence. Where had she gone wrong?

"Its okay Trish, I'm here." Troy soothed gently, rubbing his palms gently down her back. She was powerless against the tears, as though someone had opened the flood gates to her grief. Grief at the final break up of her marriage. It was like she was burying half of her soul. It was something Trish knew she would never get over.

"Trish, please." Troy whispered. His finger and thumb hooked beneath her chin, gently tilting her head back to face him. "I can't bear to see you cry."

Trish smiled gently, wiping away a few tears from her cheeks. Troy was right. She was stronger than this, and she had to hold herself together. For her children's sakes, if not her own.

So caught up in her thoughts of being strong, Trish nearly screamed in surprise as Troy kissed her. His lips were warm and sweet against her own, his tongue gently pleading entrance to her mouth. For just a split second, Trish considered kissing him back. Would it be so wrong for her to just feel like someone loved her?

She snapped to her senses almost instantly, shoving Troy back with both hands. Backing up to stand against the wall, her hand rested on her now heaving chest. Both brown eyes half glared, half peered inquisitively at Troy. Having taken a step back, his hands were now firmly shoved into the pockets of her pants. With his head tilted the way he was, he looked like a boy who had just been scolded by a parent.

"Troy. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Trish wasn't angry, and she hoped her tone reflected that. Still, she had to find exactly what had given Troy the signal that she wanted any kind of romantic involvement with him. And now, of all times she could consider being with someone else, did he think discussing the finer points of her divorce was an opportune time to bring it up?

"I'm sorry Trish, really I am." Looking up, Troy smiled that melting half smile of his - the kind reserved to get himself out of trouble when he himself had caused it. "That was presumptuous of me and totally inappropriate."

"I'll say." Trish sighed in agreement.

"But I'm not sorry for the way I feel." His last comment caught Trish off guard, to the point where she wasn't exactly sure that she'd heard him properly. How could you possibly answer the declaration of someone else's feelings for you?

"I'm sorry?" She whispered, her throat suddenly drier and tighter than it had been seconds ago. Trish somehow felt it was wrong that Troy could such an effect on her. And yet she was powerless to stop it.

"I said I'm not sorry for the way I feel Trish." As if testing the water, Troy took a measured step towards her. "It can't possibly come as a surprise that I'm in love with you Trish. I've loved you since the first day we met. You were sat at that desk in that dark blue business suit, your hair in those blonde curls. It was like I'd found what I'd been looking for when I hadn't even realised it was missing to begin with. I fell for you so hard and I've worked so much to try and keep my feelings hidden from you…"

Holding a hand up to stop Troy, Trish shook her head. "I really had no idea, but that doesn't mean…"

Obviously on a role, Troy cut Trish off before she could finish what she was going to say. In her head, it was something along the line of 'thanks but no thanks'. Perhaps not the most sensitive or original way of dealing with, but she had no choice. Troy was attractive, and would be a wonderful boyfriend for any woman. Hell, Trish knew most older women would be flattered to be told such a young stud was in love with them.

But not her. Even if Troy was the most eligible bachelor in America, she was far too caught up in the devastating loss of her marriage. Whatever may have happened, she was still in love with Randy Orton. It seemed Troy had missed the memo as he continued on with pouring out his heart.

"Trish, I know this is a difficult stage for you, and this couldn't have come at a worse time. But I love you. Every part of me aches for you Trish. My heart beats just for you. I have loved you for the past ten years and would do anything to be the guy who gets to come home to you at night and hold you in his arms." His eyes coloured with emotion, Troy came even closer to Trish.

Backed up against the wall, Trish nervously glanced over Troy's shoulder to where the door was. "I want to be the man you come home to. I want to be with you and take care of you and…I guess I just want the chance to love you."

Troy had well and truly arrived in Trish's personal bubble and coherent words escaped her. As it was, all she managed was - "My kids…"

"I love Riley and Parker. I would never dream of trying to replace Randy in their lives. But I promise I couldn't love them any less than he does. I swear I will be there for them like they were my own." Troy leaned his head closer to Trish, taking her hand in his. "Trish, please. All I'm asking is that you give me the chance to show you how much I love you. And maybe…given time you'll realise that you have the same feelings for me. I've always felt there was something special between us…haven't you?"

Somehow, the word no didn't seem strong enough for this situation. But for whatever reason, the power of speech had well and truly abandoned the soon to be ex-Mrs. Randy Orton.

"Trish, I love you. I want to be with you."

_Oh crap. _Only able to think the words, Trish realised too late that Troy was going to try and kiss her again. His eyes had closed softly, and both sweet lips were inches away from landing directly on Trish's.

Fate seemed to finally be smiling on Trish as a rather aggressive knock on the office door interrupted Troy just before the pivotal moment of their lips touching. Silently thanking whoever it was, Trish deftly slipped out from the wall and Troy and moved to stand at the edge of her desk furthest away from her lawyer.

Straightening her blouse, Trish cleared his throat as Troy attempted to focus on whoever it was that interrupted what could potentially be the day his dreams came true. "Come in." Trish called.

The wooden panelled door swung open to reveal the face of one of Troy's legal assistants. He was young and obviously nervous about interrupting his boss. As it was, Troy's face frowned. "Kyle, I thought I said no interruptions whilst I was dealing with Ms. Stratus?"

_Did he just call me Ms. Stratus? When did I become a divorcee using my maiden name? _Not given a chance to voice her observations, Kyle nervously stumbled over his words, waving a piece of paper in their direction. "I know sir, but an urgent call came through for Ms. Stratus." Turning to Trish, Kyle's face pleaded to be saved. "Your daughter's school called. The Principal has asked that you come by as soon as possible, because..."

That was enough for Trish. She didn't need to hear the specifics. Whatever may have happened, Trish planned to take her daughter for a prolonged shopping trip for saving her from the nightmare scenario she was caught in. Jogging past Troy, she snatched up her purse and jacket, heading for the door. Turning back over her should towards Troy, she shrugged. "I guess we'll have to catch up some other time. Just make sure those he returns those papers Troy."

And with that finally business-like command, Trish stepped outside the office and broke into a run down the corridor. She was already gone by the time Troy's crestfallen expression dimmed his entire demeanour. And even if she had known, that wouldn't have stopped Trish. Somehow, her legs couldn't carry her fast enough out of the building and away from him.

* * *

Sat opposite the Principal, Riley could safely say nothing he was ranting was reaching her. She had long since drowned out the goings on of both him and Mr. Scott. Yes, she knew fighting was wrong and didn't solve anything. But damn it if smacking Jeremy and Savannah didn't feel good. Besides, Riley was half tempted to point out that a fight traditionally involved two people trading blows back and forth. As she saw it, she took both of them down without breaking a sweat. 

It wasn't a fight. It was justified retribution.

"…and I just can't understand this Riley." Principal Martinez finally exhaled. His wizened features creased in disappointment. Taking his spectacles from the bridge of his nose, he stared solemnly into her face. "This is so out of character for you. You are a popular, straight A student. I can't understand why you would resort to violence."

From the edge of the desk, Mr. Scott leered knowingly at her. "I think you'll find this is rather _in_ character for Miss Orton, Principal Martinez." Nodding at the Principal, he turned his attention back to Riley. "Oh yes sir, little Riley here is quite the trouble maker. I personally have catalogued her indiscretions and reactions against authority over the past school year. Quite frankly sir, I feel expulsion is the only viable means of…"

"Get a life you sad little man." Riley didn't actually believe she had said that out loud until she saw the look on the face of Principal Martinez. If she was in trouble before, it seemed she had single handedly signed her own death warrant now.

As his stony grey eyes bulged, his lips twitched with fury. Bracing herself for an onslaught, Riley was more than shocked when it never came. Indeed, its seemed fate had a far worse resolution in store for her.

Commotion outside the Principal's office drew all three's attention to the door. Riley recognised that calm, muted anger and involuntarily shuddered. The grim reaper was well and truly here. And she sounded pissed.

The door flew open to reveal the bemused Trish Orton. She had just driven to the school in record time from the offices of her lawyer and was somewhat agitated as it was. Perhaps unluckily for Riley, the Principal's secretary had explained exactly what Riley had done to warrant a trip to the office. Gone were the mental promises of a shopping in trip. Instead, dark thought of locking her in the basement and throwing away the key had taken their place.

Refusing to wait until her daughter was finished speaking the head of the faculty, she had pushed past the assistant and opened the door to the office herself.

"Ah, Mrs. Orton. Won't you come inside?" The Principal made a show of moving to welcome Trish. Not bothering with pleasantries, Trish entered the room and took the seat next to her daughter, glaring over her shoulder as Martinez dismissed his flustered secretary.

"Principal Martinez. Would you please tell me what this about?" Crossing one leg over the other, Trish folded her hands in her lap. Eyes focused on Martinez, she took a quick glance at her daughter who looked like she was trying to sink into her seat.

"We were just discussing the terms of your daughter's expulsion Mrs. Orton." Mr. Scott happily informed her, much to the chagrin of both Principal Martinez and Riley.

"Expulsion?" Trish repeated, her face a picture of incredulity, "for a first offence. I hardly think a school fight justifies kicking a girl out of school."

"Mrs. Orton, whilst I can assure you we are certainly not planning on expelling your daughter," Martinez levelled Scott with a glance that caused the teacher to blush a deep red, "you must understand how serious this is. We operate a zero tolerance policy when it comes to violence in this school, and Riley is in direct violation of this by fighting. However gifted she is, I simply cannot let this vulgar fighting pass by without adequate punishment."

"For gods' sake!" Riley exploded, standing up out of her chair, "I was not fighting!"

"I think you'd better sit down and keep quiet missy." Trish's voice was calm, but held a definite thread of menace that Riley knew only too well.

Looking like she might challenge her mother, Riley's righteous anger ebbed as quickly as it had exploded and slowly shrank back into her chair. Once she was certain her daughter was done, Trish once again turned back to the Principal. "Who was she fighting with?"

"Savannah Jones-Mackenzie and Jeremy Williams." The Principal replied, folding his hands on his desk. "Savannah's parents have already been in contact and are very angry about the episode. As Jeremy goes, he has been taken to hospital due to a broken nose. His parents are with him and have yet to be in contact."

Judging by the Principal's expression, it had been a very long telephone conversation with the Jones-Mackenzie's. Only just managing to keep the grin suppressed, Trish stared at Riley. "You broke Jeremy's nose? What did he do? Sleep with Melody?"

Trish had only meant it as a joke, but Riley's expression made her realise she wasn't far from the mark. And that worried her.

"No." Riley finally spat, eyes glaring into space. "He slept with Savannah. And taped it for the entire school to see."

Fighting hard to not hug her daughter and comfort her, Trish settled for sliding her hand over and taking Riley's hand in her own. Riley, for her part, made no effort to hold her mother's hand. Undeterred, Trish left her hand holding Riley's.

"I understand your position Principal Martinez, but given the extenuating circumstances, not to mention my daughter's impeccable record, I feel her punishment should be tempered because of this." Trish was deadly serious. If it were up to her, the school should be congratulating Riley for ditching the waste of space Jeremy and realising she was a teenage girl dealing with heartbreak.

"I agree Mrs. Orton. Therefore, I have to decided to suspend Riley for the rest of the term. There are only two weeks left until the break, and her school work will not be affected. "The Principal's expression softened towards both mother and daughter. "I feel it would be best if Riley were given time away to cool down. It perhaps would be beneficial for involved?"

Trish nodded, already rising from her seat to shake the Principal's hand. She made a point not to touch Mr. Scott, who had moved to the corner to glower. Obviously, this was not the outcome he had been dreaming of. "Thank you Principal. And I give you my word my daughter and I will have a very long talk about how violence is not the way to solve one's problems." _However tempting it might be._

Saying their goodbyes, Trish slid her arm around Riley's shoulders and guided her down the hallway towards the doors. She was glad to be out of the office where she could give her first born some well deserved TLC. "Do you want to talk it baby?"

"No." Came Riley's response. Her eyes remained firmly fixed on the ground. Willing herself not to cry in front of her mother, Riley just wanted to get home to her room where she could cry her hurt into her pillow.

"I know it sucks honey, but I promise you this is for the best. And talking about it helps. I know I'm your mother and you probably think its un-cool and all, but I am here for you." Trish squeezed Riley's shoulder as she pushed the school doors open. Heading down the steps, she squeezed her key chain, unlocking her car from a distance.

"This is for the best? Yeah, right." Riley chuckled icily. "You haven't got a clue have you? Of course you wouldn't. If it doesn't involve you, why would the great Trish Orton give a crap?"

"Riley!" Trish scolded. "That's enough of that. I am just trying to help you here."

Flinging her mother's arm off her, Riley turned to face her, tears burning her eyes. "Well do me a favour, and stay the hell out of my life! If has got nothing to do with you. If I need someone to talk to, then I'll do it. But stop interfering mom! Just be happy that you got your way and me and Jeremy are finished!"

Trish shook her head. "Riley, I didn't mean it like that. I just think that you're better of without him, that's all."

"I love him mom! I am not better of with out him! He was boyfriend and he was in bed with another girl. Do you know how much that hurts?" Riley's tear blurred eyes searched Trish's face for a glimmer of understanding. "Of course you don't. You haven't got a clue."

"I think we need to just calm down Riley. We're getting a little hysterical…"

Trish couldn't finish her sentence as Riley half screamed, half growled at her mother. "Stop telling me what to do! I'll deal with this in my own way, without your help!"

Shoving her hands into her pockets, Riley marched away from her mother. She needed to get away. The way she was feeling, Riley wasn't sure if she could contain her anger around her mother. As usual, the parenting style of Trish Orton was to wade in and tell everyone else what to do. Well not this time.

"Riley, where are you going?" Trish immediately called after her.

"Away from you!" Came the screamed response. Riley suddenly broke into a run. Her athletic legs pumped furiously beneath her as she sped down over the lawn and away from Trish.

Trish called frantically after her daughter, but it was already too late. Riley was at the end of the street and cutting between the house to get away.

Away from her own mother.

Sighing sadly, Trish mentally chastised herself for the way she handled that. She should have known better, but somehow where her daughter was concerned, she could never do or say the right thing. No matter how good her intentions were. Maybe teenage daughters and their mothers were just not supposed to understand one another.

Sliding into the seat of her car, Trish gripped the steering wheel as she tried to regain control over her breathing. What Riley had said hurt her deeply, but she did her best to mark it up to her daughter nursing a broken heart.

And Trish knew Riley well enough to know there was only place she could possibly be going. Ever since she had been a little girl, there was only one place she could get the comfort and love it would take to heal any problem she had. And it just so happened to be the one place in the world Trish Orton absolutely didn't want to be. In fact, she would sooner sell her right leg than follow her daughter there.

But Trish knew she would have to deal with her own issues in her own time. First and foremost, she was a mother to a hormonal, broken hearted teenager. She had to go after her daughter and be there for her, no matter what the reaction might be.

And if that meant she had to come face to face with the man she was about to divorce, then so be it.

Trish only hoped she could hold it together long enough to get her daughter and take her home. The realist in her however doubted it.

This was going to hurt. A lot.


	7. Pieces of Me

**A/N**_** : Update. Apologies for taking so long. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please R&R.**_

* * *

As a second successive suplex was botched in the ring in front of him, Randy Orton's shoulders heaved in a dramatic sigh. He was being frustrated into apathy with the group of kids in the ring before him, each one barely a man and apparently unable to perform even the most basic of wrestling manoeuvres.

Maybe he was getting jaded as time went by, but back in his day the company would never even look at, much less give a try-out to people with such little technical ability. Raw talent was one thing, but if you couldn't even do a headlock right, then how exactly was he meant to take the next generation and mould them into the superstars of tomorrow? Hell, he was Randy Orton and he was good, but not _that _good. The word alchemist wasn't attached to his name and he couldn't make something out of nothing. He couldn't make one of those boys the next Stone Cold Steve Austin or Shawn Michaels or John Cena based on what he saw. There just wasn't enough ability there.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be the rule rather than the exception these days. During the early 2000s, the wrestling business had gone through a transitional phase. The WWE had bought up all their serious competition, namely WCW and ECW leaving them as the dominating wrestling promotion. Of course TNA had existed, but it had and would always be a second rate company, used for the WWE's cast off's more than anything else. And with the lack of rival wrestling promotions, newer wrestlers had nowhere to learn their craft, to become the technically gifted men and women to shoulder the burden of the great company in the future.

He and several of his friends, like John Cena and Dave Batista, were the last of the real talent to come from OVW as far as he was concerned. Everyone that came after paled by comparison.

And that had seen to the rise of the Indies, local federations that ran wrestling promotions and paved the way for the likes of CM Punk to become a star. Whilst the extreme era of wrestling was over, this breed had been famed for technically stunning matches and breathed new life into the industry. Randy could remember being sceptical at first, but quickly won over as he saw the likes of Punk and Evan Bourne doing things he hadn't thought possible with the human body. Quickly becoming a champion of 'Indie Superstars', he worked his way into Talent Relations and had become a mentor to that group of wrestlers; helping them hone their abilities and polish their in ring performances.

However, as seemed to be the cycle with wrestling promotions, the Indie feds were dying out. Competition, lack of funding and poor groups of wrestlers had seen many go out of business, not to mention the infighting between rival promoters and their squabbles over talent that had sounded the death knell to many federations. There was still Europe and Japan of course, but there was nothing tangible coming out from the rest of the world at the moment, nothing he could use anyway. Randy was simply stuck with what he had. And what he had sucked.

He wished the 'best of a bad bunch' idea applied to the five kids bumping horribly on the canvas in front of him, but it didn't. They were all awful and, had this been five years ago, would have found themselves laughed out of the building and the industry.

However Randy didn't have the luxury of such an attitude. Shane and Stephanie had charged him with getting the talent back in OVW at whatever cost, meaning he would just have to teach them from scratch. Randy found himself wishing he was still working under the evil genius of Vince McMahon, but the maniacal billionaire had retired a decade ago, to enjoy his life and the fruits of his empire with Linda. At least he understood some people just didn't have what it took to make it in the business. But with the company now in the hands of Mr. McMahon's children and their spouses, Randy had no choice but to do as he was told. And that meant turning the dregs into World Champions.

Sighing again, he glanced down at the ring from his seat half way up in the stands of the dusty training facility. Narrowing his crystal blue eyes at the group, he resisted the urge to through something at them.

"You! Princess!" He bellowed, pointing an accusing finger and a blonde kid shaking his head to the clear the cobwebs after landing awkwardly. "What in the blue hell was that supposed to be? You're supposed to take a bump, not look like a sack of shit falling off the back of a truck! Do it again, and Lucas keep an eye on him for gods sake. I need a break from this shit."

Leaning in the corner against the turnbuckles, Lucas Cena nodded his head and stepped into the centre of the ring and grabbed the errant trainee by the back of the neck, hauling him out of the way to do the bump again.

Standing up out of the red plastic seat, Randy stretched his hands upwards, feeling the muscles in his lower back twinge and groan at the movement. No movement he made these days was met with anything less. His body was tired, and he hurt all the time. His knees ached no matter if he were sitting, standing or lying down. His shoulders were shot and Randy had real difficulty raising his arms above shoulder height. Now his back was starting to give out, Randy figured he maybe had eighteen months of good wrestling left before he'd have to seriously consider giving up active competition. The health aspect aside, the last thing he wanted was to tarnish his legacy by stinking up the ring with his last run of matches. He'd worked too hard for too long to go out a shadow of a diminishing star.

Walking down the concrete steps of the stands, Randy turned and headed out toward the doors, all the while thinking of how he could finish up with at least some of his dignity in tact. It was never easy to leave the business, but he hoped when the time came he'd have the strength to walk away, perhaps from all aspects.

He considered pitching the idea to the Shane. Whilst they'd butted head in the past, the older man had mellowed some what in his later years and took a fatherly approach to all the talent, even the old dogs like Randy. Maybe he could have one more good run with the belt and go out chasing the gold against one of the young guys, like Lucas. Randy wouldn't mind losing to his friends' son and it would get the kid over with the fans. Beating _the_ Randy Orton was like getting the fall over Hulk Hogan back in the day. It just never happened.

Rubbing the stubble on his chin in contemplation, Randy pushed open one of the faded red fire doors and stepped out into the brilliant Californian sunshine in the back parking lot. It was late afternoon, but the sun was still proudly blazing in the cloudless sky, and Randy enjoyed the warmth caressing his careworn face. Perhaps he could spend more time doing this when he stopped competing, just enjoying the simple things in life like the weather and his family.

The thought sobered Randy in an instant. He'd never have those things, not now. Not if Trish's request for divorce was anything to go by. He'd been contacted earlier in the afternoon by her lawyer's office, specifically that punk of a kid called Troy. He'd bordered on rudeness in the way he spoke, telling Randy that he'd worked out the settlement and would send it on for his signature, as if it were a foregone conclusion that he would just agree. Something told Randy that the guy's interest in a speedy divorce for him and Trish went beyond just client/attorney protectiveness. But then he had always been paranoid. It could just be jealousy, the idea that another man was spending more time with his wife than he was, consoling her in a time of pain. _I should be that man_, he thought bitterly. _I should be there for my wife when she needs me_.

_If it wasn't for you she wouldn't be hurting now would she?_

Gritting his teeth against the spiteful voice in the back of his head, Randy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Sliding one out, he put it between his pursed lips as he patted himself down for a lighter.

How had his life come to this? His professional life was as good as it had ever been, but his personal life was in tatters. How could he have taken the most beautiful and important thing in his world and maim it beyond all recognition? Randy was under no illusion that this was his entire fault. As much as he refused to believe it was over between him and Trish, he couldn't exactly blame her. It seemed he had gone out of his way to separate them emotionally long before she and the kids had moved out. Randy was guilty of many things, and taking his family for granted was chief amongst his sins. When he'd been a kid, he remembered the endless nights at home with his mother and siblings, waiting for sight or news of his father.

One particular memory struck him as he found the lighter and snapped the flame into life. He'd been around eight years old; his father at the height of his popularity with the company. Randy's home life was happy, save for the absence of his father who was constantly on the road as one of the most hated heels in the business.

Randy remembered spending every Saturday afternoon sat in the window on the first floor of the house. From it he could see out into his entire street. From morning till night every Saturday, he'd sit in that window, moving only for trips to the bathroom and kept a vigil for his father. Randy's mother had given up trying to convince him to come away and settled for bringing his meals up to him. Every single Saturday for nine months he'd sat there, all because his father ended every phone conversation with "_maybe see you Saturday son_." The eight year old boy had taken that to heart, and waited.

And one Saturday, the unthinkable had happened. At ten in the morning, his father had pulled into the street! Randy had rushed down the stairs and out of the door into his father arms. They'd spent the day together, going to the county fair and fishing on a river near their house. It'd been the best day of a young Randy's life, and it would be the last time he'd seen his father until the following Christmas. By the time his father was a regular fixture in his life, Randy was fifteen years old and had come to terms with his absent parent. Whilst he didn't hate his father by any stretch of the imagination, Randy could never calm that bitter hint of resentment he felt for his father, that he had chosen his career over his children's early years.

And now Randy realised with bitterness that he had turned into his father. He was the absent parent, the one on the road constantly, a distant voice on the end of a phone making empty promises at best. How had that ever happened? Randy had sworn he would be a better father to Riley and Parker, yet here he was, his daughter on the verge of adulthood and he'd barely seen half of her growing years. God only knew how his son felt about him.

It wasn't enough that he'd done exactly as his father had, but in many ways he was worse. His parents were still married, almost thirty five years later. Whilst Bob Orton may have been a questionable parent, he had at least been a better husband. That was something Randy had failed at. Trish wanted a divorce, to end the relationship that had transformed him as person and had given light and purpose to his existence. The pain at losing her was indescribable, and every part of him screamed to not give her up, to fight for her. But rationality told him that he was fighting a losing battle. After years of loneliness and pain, Trish had finally given up at them. And he loved her enough to do whatever it took to make her happy, even if it meant setting her free.

Randy knew that if the divorce went ahead he would never get over Trish; and would hate himself all the more if he ever did.

Blinking back stinging tears, Randy let the flame of the lighter dance across the end of his cigarette as he inhaled, feeling the smoke burn in his expanding lungs. Just as they began to protest at being filled with smoke, Randy exhaled, pushing the smoke and the bitter thoughts of broken families out with it.

Glancing out toward the nearly deserted parking lot, he squinted as his eyes caught the sight of someone on the horizon waking in his direction. Haloed by blinding sunlight, he couldn't see whoever it was as the smoke hazed his vision. And yet, even from this distance, he _felt_ them, a tugging on the inside of his heart that was unmistakable. Dropping the cigarette, he crushed it under foot and began walking toward whoever it was.

Getting closer, she became obvious to him. Her ash blonde hair hanging loosely around her shoulders that were naked in the sleeveless tee shirt. The bottoms of her jeans were thick with dust, and he knew she must have walked here from god only knew where. The most obvious feature however were her warm chocolate brown eyes, glistening with unshed tears. The dried streaks on her perfect cheek bones,_ his _cheek bones, let him know they weren't the first to be cried today and probably wouldn't be the last. The curve of her beautiful mouth was down turned into a grimace of heartache that shredded his own tender heart.

Wordlessly, Riley stepped into the waiting arms of her father, her head instantly buried against his shoulder as the tears started to rain down her cheeks once more. Her sobs were a little stifled as Randy held her close, his arms holding her gently but firmly against him as one hand traced soothing lines down her back and up again. He wanted to cry with and for her, but settled for being the strength she needed him to be.

Riley hadn't realised her father was carrying her until she heard the fire doors shut behind them in the corridor. He whispered softly to her that everything was going to be alright as he climbed the stairs and headed back into a deserted locker room. With care he placed her down on one of the examining tables, handing her a tissue from a box on the counter. Randy had learned years ago that Riley hated to be vulnerable in front of anyone. Crying in front of someone made her feel weak and powerless, where she had learned it from was something he never understood. Knowing her as he did, Randy knew better than to offer words of comfort right now.

Instead, he left the room for a few moments, allowing her to compose herself and regain her fiery independence. Riley didn't have to say it, but he knew she was thankful.

He returned to her a few minutes later, a box of ice under one arm and a towel in the other. Placing the box down next to her, he lifted his hands to push her hair back from her face and tuck it behind her ears. Riley warmed at her father's hands, feeling the safe comfort flow through her as he cupped her face between his palms. He studied her with a soft intensity for a moment before turning to the box and opening it.

Selecting a few cubes of ice, he placed them inside the towel and wrapped it. Taking up her hand, he inspected her red and bruised knuckles with a grimace before placing the rudimentary ice bag over it. It amazed Riley how he had noticed something like that, but she said nothing and remained silently grateful for his care. She hadn't even noticed how badly her knuckles were throbbing until he had placed the ice over it. Still Riley relished in the pain. It was a reminder of what she'd done to Jeremy, and that was some comfort.

"So," Randy said as he cleared his throat, "want to tell me what happened?"

"Want to tell me why you were smoking?" She countered, both eyes showing amused seriousness. It was a running joke between them. Randy promised he'd given up and yet she always managed to catch him during a sneaky cigarette. One glance from her father and Riley quickly answered his question whether she wanted to or not. "I hit Jeremy and got suspended for it."

Randy's patient silence was enough to make Riley explain entirely. Part of her was relieved to tell her father, but exposing herself this way felt strange. It was usually her mother who listened to her relationship problems. "He was cheating on me Dad. I don't know how long for, but he's been sleeping with another girl at school. He filmed the little get together and practically everyone in school has seen it. I smacked him good, but got suspended for it."

Randy's face was awash with emotions; from anger to disappointment, hurt to concern. Finally he settled for understanding as he slipped on the bed next to his daughter and put his arm around her shoulders. "So you punched him huh?" Riley nodded.

Grinning, he planted a kiss on the top of her head. "That's my girl. Don't worry, Daddy and his friends will make sure he won't sleep with anyone else. He won't be capable of it."

Riley shook her head, turning to him. "It's done Dad. You don't need to do anything. I just want to forget the whole thing and go join a convent or something."

Randy chuckled. "What did your mother say?"

She made a face that Randy caught, but made no comment on. "The usual. I wish she'd stay out of my life. I bet she's gloating right now that Jeremy and I are finished. She's wanted it that way since we first got together. She always thought he wasn't good enough."

"You're too hard on your mom," Randy said softly, stroking her hair in his hands. "She loves you and only wants what's best for you, and it looks like she was right about this guy doesn't it? You should cut her some slack princess. It can't be easy for her having you and your brother to worry about."

Riley rolled her eyes. "I'm supposed to feel sorry for her for ruining my life? She's only got herself to blame Dad. She could've asked you to come home instead of moving here to Cali. Or made some effort to sort things out between you. You know I even asked her if you could stay with us whilst you're in town but she shot me down. It's like she wants everyone to be miserable by keeping the family apart."

Sighing, Randy felt his jaw tense. How was he going to explain this to Riley? That it wasn't Trish's fault at all, it was his and that he'd pushed his wife so far that she wanted to officially end their marriage? It wouldn't be easy, but his daughter had a right to know. He just wished the timing had been better. "Riley, you can't blame your mother for all this. The truth is, that I…"

"I don't want to talk about it." Riley said quietly, unknowingly giving Randy a grace period. She was already broken hearted over Jeremy. Discussing the estrangement of her parents was too much right now, and the last thing she wanted was to start crying all over her father again. She'd done that enough for one day. Besides, she was never in the mood to hear her father praise her mother. As far as Riley was concerned, Trish Orton was her own home wrecker.

"Are you looking forward to your party on Friday?" Randy finally asked, nudging her gently on the side and gladly changing the subject.

"I may cancel it now." Riley glumly replied.

"You can't do that princess. All your friends are coming to the club we rented."

"You'll be there too, right?" Riley looked directly into her father's eyes, fearful of disappointment.

"Sure I'll be there. One of the boys will be taking care of the try-outs that night, so I'll be all yours for the evening." Randy smiled affectionately, as Riley's mind whirred with possibilities.

"You mean you won't be deciding on any of the try-outs on Friday night?" Randy nodded his head. If her father wouldn't be present at the try-outs, that meant she could potentially sneak in get in a try-out of her own. If she could get passed the preliminary stages, not to mention vanish from her own party, Riley just knew that by the time her father realised it was her, he would be thrilled to have her on the road with him. Better still, she could leave school, Jeremy and her mother behind and embark on a new life with her father. "That's…that's really great Dad, thank you."

Turning, Riley wrapped her arms around her father's neck, holding him tightly. Randy sighed in contentment, enjoying the feeling of holding his little girl. He'd done it so rarely over these past few years he was frightened that he would forget how good it felt to be a father.

As his hands stroked Riley's hair, Randy had to swallow the lump forming in his throat. How many more chances would he have to be like this with his precious little girl? Once the truth about the divorce was revealed, there was no telling how either of his children would react. The thought of being parted from Riley and Parker was agony, but then Randy knew it would be an adequate punishment for everything that he'd done. He deserved a lot worse. And maybe his kids would know some kind of peace once he was out of their lives officially.

The sound of someone invading this private moment with his daughter caused anger to boil in his veins. Turning to berate whoever it was that had intruded on this moment, Randy's breath caught in his throat as Trish glanced at them from the doorway. Riley sensed her father's sudden change and followed his line of sight to her mother. Scowling, she pulled away from Randy and busied herself with holding the ice against her hand.

"Trish." Randy barely whispered, hoping down off the table to take a step toward her.

Instinctively, Trish took a step back and Randy held still, a look of hurt in his crystal blue eyes. "I came for Riley." Trish said by way of explanation. Just seeing Randy still caused chills of excitement to run over her body, but it wasn't enough to dull the heart aching for the loss her soul mate in her chest. It was so hard to just even look at him now, that she was amazed she hadn't already burst into tears.

"I'm not coming." Riley replied, narrowing her eyes at Trish across the room.

"Riley, go wait for your mother in the car. I have to talk to her." Randy glanced at Riley and motioned with his head for her to leave.

"But Daddy…" Riley heard the whine in her own voice and would have gladly slapped herself for sounding so childish.

"C'mon princess." Randy flashed her a brilliant smile. "We can't really talk about your surprise for your party with you in the room, can we?"

Huffing as she slipped off the table, Riley kissed her father's cheek before stomping off past her mother, grabbing the car keys out of her hands on the way past.

Randy and Trish stood in silence as the echoing sound of Riley's stamping feet faded as she headed down the corridor and back outside to the car park. Randy shuffled his feet nervously as Trish moved to lean her back against the wall.

"I spoke to Troy this morning," Randy began, lifting his head to meet Trish's gaze," he told me everything."

Panic flared through Trish's mind as she remembered Troy trying to kiss her. Immediately she felt guilt and shame at what had happened, blaming herself for allowing Troy to catch her like that. More importantly however was her fear of how Randy would react. Surely he couldn't think she would cheat on him, even with a pending divorce. "Randy I …"

"It's alright Trish," Randy cut in before she could finish the sentence, "you don't have to explain. Troy made the deal sound pretty fair but I honestly don't care. I need you to tell me that you don't love me anymore. I have you hear you say it or I can't sign it."

"Why does that even matter?" Trish blinked in confusion.

"Because if you do still love me, even just a little then I won't divorce you."

"This isn't about love Randy," Trish sighed, "this is about what is right for us as people."

"You're wrong Trish," he said as he took a measure step toward her. Trish made no effort to move from the wall so he took another step, closing the gap almost completely between them. "This has everything to do with love. If I even have a reason to hope that you still love me, then I will fight for you. For us."

"Randy please…" Trish breathed, feeling tears pooling in her eyes.

Just as one fell down her cheek, Randy reached out his hand and caught it with his thumb, gently brushing it aside. However once he'd done so, he didn't take his hand back, instead leaving it softly cupping the side of her face.

"I can't let you go. Do you understand?" Randy placed his other hand on Trish's shoulder. "I love you Trish, and I know you love me too. Just give me a chance to make this right."

How easy it would've been for Trish to say yes, but the word caught in her throat. She hadn't been this close to her husband in years; much less feel his skin against hers. How simple it would be for her to just tilt her head up and meet his lips with her own, and to kiss away their pain and heal her broken heart.

"I can't." She sobbed. Taking Randy's hand, she took it from her face and stepped away from him toward the door. "I wish you knew how much you've hurt me Randy, and even though I will never stop loving you, I can't let you do this to me anymore."

Randy felt each word like a knife into his heart but remained quiet, even as Trish took his hand into both of hers and held it tight. "I am begging you Randy. Please, just let me go. Let me try and pick up the pieces of whatever is left of me and live my life."

"Will it make you happy?" Randy asked softly, both blue eyes holding her gaze sadly.

"It will give me some peace." She admitted.

Letting his hand fall from hers, she took a step toward the door and gave her husband one final sorrowful glance. The skin on her hand where she'd held his was burning all the way to her heart. "I could have loved you forever."

Trish didn't realise she'd said the words until the look of pain flashed across Randy's face. Turning on her heel, she headed out into the corridor, breaking into a run. She told herself not give into the tears until she got out of building, but she didn't make it. She cried the entire silent journey back to her house, unable to even look at her daughter in the seat next to her, who had enough sense to stay quiet.

Those tears continued to fall until she fell into an exhausted sleep later that night, coldly secure in the knowledge that she and Randy were no more. Knowing that to be true, Trish wondered whether she would ever stop crying again.


	8. Brilliant Plans

**_A/N: _Update for your reading pleasure. Hope you enjoy this, please read and review!**

* * *

"Have you totally lost your mind?"

Not for the first time, Riley clucked her tongue at Melody, who stood behind her as she straightened her friend's hair.

"I'm serious Ri, have you totally and utterly lost your fucking mind?" Shaking her head, Melody tugged a little harder on Riley's hair than she needed to as she ran the straighteners down the length of her caramel blonde mane.

"The entire thing is brilliant, I'm telling you." Not exactly pleased that her best friend was doubting her genius, Riley sank lower into the leather seat opposite Melody's mirror, watching her friend behind her with murderous eyes. "It will work. Trust me Melody."

Holding the straightening irons away, Melody stared back at those eyes in the mirror. The afternoon had seemed so promising to start with. After Riley had filled Melody in on the weird confrontation between her parents the day before, they had moved onto more familiar topic; men. Specifically Jeremy and how much they both wanted to torture him for various offences. They'd ended up in Melody's room and had spent the afternoon mixing spirits and bitching about boys.

However conversation became stunted when Riley detailed her so called 'brilliant' plan to get a try out on Friday Night with the WWE talent scouts that were in town. All she had to do was get in the ring and impress the nameless talent scout and she'd be on her way to the regional try-outs. If she passed that stage, she would earn herself a developmental contract with FCW and a potential future within the wrestling business.

Of course the slight fly in the ointment of the idea was the try out's timing. Whilst her father would luckily be absent that evening and not judging the try-outs, it was only because he would be attending Riley's own birthday party! In order to the arena, Riley would need to get out of the club her parents had rented and get to the facility which was almost forty minutes away. And then there was the small matter of getting back before anyone noticed she had gone, and unlikely premise. And all for one try-out match which may or may not go well.

Melody didn't doubt her friend's ability, because she knew Riley was damn good. But a lot was being left to chance, and one bad opponent would mean a waste of effort of everyone's part.

Riley had sounded so pleased with herself as she explained her scheme, causing Melody's eyebrows to arch higher and higher up her forehead. Making a mental note to send Riley the bill for the botox she would need in the future, Melody went back to the task of straightening her friend's hair.

"I get that you want to be a wrestler Riley, I do. But this…this diabolical plan is never going to work. How are you going to get out of the club? It's _your_ birthday party for crying out loud. Everyone will notice if you suddenly disappear!"

"Not if you create a distraction they won't." Riley flashed Melody her best pleading look.

Looking vacant for a moment, the penny finally dropped and Melody's eyes bulged with incredulity. "For two hours? How the hell do I distract an entire club full of your nearest and dearest for that amount of time? I don't think a blonde wig and sassy mouth will convince anyone."

Riley couldn't help but smirk. "You'll just have to shake what your momma gave you girl."

Now it was Melody's turn to give the murderous glare to her friend. "Riley Kendall Orton! I am not pole dancing again! I did that last year so you and your scum sucking ex-boyfriend could sneak off and get beer and I think I sprained my vagina because of it!"

Exploding in a fit of laughter, Riley ran her fingers at the corners of her eyes to catch the tears that were falling as a result. "That was the funniest thing, you limping off the podium afterwards. And how exactly is your damaged vagina my fault? You're the one who kept grinding against the pole with the force of an eighteen wheeler. I'm surprised you didn't give yourself a hernia or something as well."

Melody snorted before pulling Riley's hair again.

"And besides," Riley continued, "the entire thing worked didn't it? We were in and out before anyone noticed we'd gone. You just need to do the same thing this year. Hey, maybe you could do a strip show or something? Now that would get the crowd's undivided attention. I bet Jared would even pay you to get naughty on the stage."

Reaching for the straightening serum, Melody rolled her eyes. "Oh please, that boy thinks with his pants at the best of times. And whilst that usually works in my favour, the last thing I need is a drunk, over-stimulated Jared pouncing on me after a stripping pole dance."

Eyes wide, Riley smirked. "Talk about a sprained vagina."

"Hell that would be the least of my problems! He'd hump me through the bed! In fact I don't think I'd survive." Melody stopped to consider it for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders and returning to work on Riley's hair. "Well I suppose we all have to go sometimes. And what better way to take my leave than Jared banging me all the way into the great here-after?"

Riley made a face through her laughter. "That has got to be blasphemous. You are so going to hell."

Melody chuckled. "Duh. That's the latest on a long line of sins earning me a one way ticket to hell. And you know, that part of the plan might not be so bad now that I've thought about it. I always wanted to get into exotic dancing. A lot of successful models and actresses started out that way. Maybe Saturday could be my big debut. And then I'd be sure of a good night with Jared afterward. Win, win."

"See? I told you. Utter genius." With a self satisfied smile, Riley slid the straw between her lips and enjoyed some of the cocktail she and Melody had created earlier.

"Hold your horses, oh great master planner. Even with my unashamed skills, I don't think I can pacify a crowd for two hours. And even if I could, how will you get in and out without being noticed? Parker is bound to rat you out if he notices you're gone, assuming your parents don't miss you first. Somehow I can't see either of them being entertained by me shaking my butt." Melody locked the straighteners shut and switched the power supply off on the wall.

"Details, details." Riley waved her hand dismissively." You let me worry about the exit part. As long as you buy me some time with your strippin', I'll be in and out without anyone noticing it."

"I don't know how I let you talk me into these things." With a world weary sigh, Melody picked up her drink and perched herself on the edge of the dressing table. "Stripping at your birthday for god's sake. I am so going to be arrested. Imagine that! Arrested for stripping! And it's not like I can do a Savannah and just get up and start taking my clothes off either. I need some kind of act otherwise your parents will be onto me in a second."

Placing her drink down next to Melody, Riley smirked up at her friend who was lost in thought. "_You can pull all the stops out, till they call the cops out. Grind your behind till your bent. But you gotta get a gimmick if you wanna get a hand_."

Placing her own drink down, Melody grinned at her best friend singing a song from they Junior Year production of 'Gypsy'. "_You're more than just a mimic, when you got a gimmick. Take a look how different we are… If you wanna make it, twinkle when you shake it…"_

Getting up from her seat, Riley shimmied toward her best friend, tossing her hair back in an overdramatic move. "_If you wanna grind it, wait till you've refined it…"_

Now on her feet too, Melody grabbed Riley's hands in her own and danced across the bedroom floor with her. "_If you wanna bump it, bump it with a trumpet…_"

With Melody in tow, Riley leaped onto the bed, slinging her arm around her best friend's shoulder as they both happily belted out the finish completely off-key. "_Get yourself a gimmick, and you too can be a star!_"

The two girls collapsed onto the bed, caught in a fit of screeching giggles. Melody was the first to recover, drying her eyes as she slid off the bed and grabbed their cocktails. Sitting back down opposite Riley, she handed her best friend a drink as yet another snag in the plan occurred to her. "Not that I want to break up this Gypsy Rose Lee moment, but I've thought of something else."

"Do tell." Riley managed between slurps of cocktail.

"Just because your DILF of a father isn't going to be there, you're bound to be recognised by someone else." Riley arched an eyebrow as she considered her friend's words. "Think about it Ri, you're the daughter of Randy Orton and Trish Stratus. Everyone knows you in that company. You will be recognised in an instant by some guy who has your picture stored in his spank bank."

Riley hesitated. "I never thought about that. You're right." As the last part of Melody's observation sank in, Riley shuddered. "And ew."

"Luckily for you, your best friend is an even bigger genius than you are." Hopping off the bed, Melody head to her closet. "What you need my dear is a disguise."

"A disguise?" Riley repeated.

"Exactly. Something to make it so those folks checking out the talent can't tell its baby Orton in the ring kicking ass."

"I don't think dark glasses and a trench coat are exactly going to work in the middle of a wrestling match." Stirring her cocktail, she watched her friend with interest. "What do you have in mind?"

"Just leave it to me," Melody mumbled from inside the walk in closet. Skirts, pants, tops, underwear and accessories flew out in quick succession as she searched for something in particular. "Got it! I knew I kept this baby for a rainy-day!"

Remerging from the closet, Melody brandished a pair of thigh high boots, black hot pants and a low cut black vinyl corset.

"A rainy day? Do you happen to dress up as Liza and sing _'Mein Herr' _on this rainy day?" Riley giggled as Melody threw the corset at her head.

"I'm sure I've got a wig somewhere too." At Riley's amused expression, Melody shrugged. "Okay, it's the step-monster's wig but she'll be too heavily self-medicated come Friday to notice it being gone. It's short and black and if we stick it down good enough it won't come off. Oh, and even better!"

Diving under her bed, Melody came out the other side a few moments later holding a black leather riding crop and an eye mask. "If you're gonna wear the outfit, you need the accessories, right? From my private collection."

Taking the items, Riley inspected them with amused alarm. "Never tell me. I don't want to know."

"Damn, you're gonna look hot in that ring. Can't we get someone else to cause the distraction so I can come and see you wrestle?"

"I'm not sure if I'll be wrestling or operating a televised sex-line."

Melody grinned. "Hey, didn't we just say everyone needs a gimmick?"

"Riley Orton, the Dominatrix." Riley shook her head with a smile.

"_Dita_ the Dominatrix. You'll be their mistress for the evening." Rubbing her hands together with glee, Melody snatched up her glass of cocktail and offered a toast. "To getting our gimmicks and becoming stars."

Riley toasted her glass against Melody's with a beaming smile. "To getting our gimmicks."

Draining the remainder of her cocktail, Riley realised that her plan might actually work out after all.

* * *

"You are out of your mind."

Muttering under her breath, Lana Matthews-Hardy followed her husband Jeff into the restaurant, her face like a storm cloud read to break. Moments earlier during their car journey, he had explained to her a scheme he had apparently concocted by himself. Whilst she might be able to empathise with his reasons, she couldn't deny that this was the worst idea she honestly had ever heard in her entire life. A heated argument with Jeff had done little to sway him to her way of thinking.

Walking into the room ahead of her, Jeff placed a great deal of pressure on the walking stick he had with him, using it to support his movement. Despite his extensive injuries, Jeff hadn't relied on using a stick in years and he positively despised being seen out in public with it. Obviously his leg and hip were bothering him, but Jeff being Jeff wasn't about to admit it.

It angered Lana that he felt like he had to be strong all the time, but being married to him had taught her he wouldn't listen. Catching up to him, she caught his elbow with her hand. "Babe, you need to sit down for a minute?"

"I'm fine." His southern drawl sounded clipped as he spoke the words between clenched teeth. He obviously was anything but.

"Jeff, you're obviously hurting. Just take a seat and - "

Lana wasn't given the chance to finish as Jeff cut her off. "Look, there's everyone else. C'mon, I'll sit down over there."

Narrowing her eyes at his back, Lana glanced over his shoulder to a table toward the back window. Already seated were John and Candice Cena, Dave and Melina Batista, and Victoria and Carlito. Almost everyone was present. The only couple not there were Mickie and Punk, but she vaguely remembered something about them being on a press tour in Europe.

Still holding Jeff's elbow, she manoeuvred herself so that Jeff could lean on her for more support. He resisted at first, but quickly gave in. Arriving at the table, Lana was immediately caught in bear hug by John Cena. No sooner had he put her down was Candice pulling her into a tight embrace. It went on like this for a minute, everyone greeting Lana and Jeff warmly. It had been a while since they were last together, and Lana couldn't help but be glad to see everyone together.

"Take your time Hardy," Cena chuckled, "we're gonna have to get you a wheelchair or something."

Hardy flipped John off, lowering himself painfully down onto the seat Lana had pulled back for him to sit easily on. "I still can take you down any day of the week Cena, and don't you forget it."

With a good natured chuckle, John took a big drink of his beer. Truthfully he was concerned to see his friend look that frail. I

Leaning forward onto the table, Victoria clasped her hands together. "Okay, spill the beans Jeff. We're all here and I think I speak for everyone when I say we're dying to find out why you got us here. What's with all the secrecy?"

Clearing his throat, Jeff sipped at the glass of water on the table in front of him. Whilst he wasn't planning on beating around the bush, he wanted a little time to prepare what he'd had to say. "Way to pounce on a guy when he's just sat down."

Victoria shrugged. "As great as it is to catch up, get on with it man."

Jeff nodded. It has been a stroke of luck that everyone was in town for Riley's birthday. Getting everyone together normally would have raised suspicions straight away. "There ain't no easy way to say this so I'm just gonna come out with it. Trish is going to divorce Randy."

Lana winced at the bluntness of her husband, and silently wondered why he didn't even try to put it a little more softly. The table was left in stunned silence, a multitude of emotions playing over everyone's faces. Some were amused into shocked realisation, others look devastated. The most common reaction was stony disbelief. Batista's eyes bulged just as Candice slapped her hand over her mouth. Cena's beer bottle hung suspended between the table and his wide open mouth. No-one could believe what Jeff had just said.

"Divorce?" Melina repeated, the word sounding strange in her own mouth.

"Randy and Trish? No way." Carlito spluttered, his head turning from side to side in a shake of disbelief.

"It's true. Trish told me herself. She's just exhausted by the loneliness and she wants to break free." Jeff shook his head sadly. " 'Course she doesn't realise it's going to kill her if she does let Randy go."

Batista arched an eyebrow. "What makes you the authority on Trish?"

"Maybe the fact that I've know her longer than anyone else here." Jeff replied, more harshly than he intended. Whilst he didn't want to cause a fight, he certainly didn't want to be questioned on his understanding of one of his best friends.

Luckily, Batista was obviously pacified by Jeff's comment.

"Trish and Randy, getting divorced? That just can't be." John blinked rapidly. "They're Randy and Trish for god's sake. They were made for each other."

"Baby," Candice said softly, placing her hand on his, "they haven't been that couple for a long time. I had a horrible feeling this was coming, especially after Trish moved the kids away. I didn't want to say anything to her at the time, but I figured this would come. It's so sad."

Batista leaned forward. "Is there no hope of them working things out?"

Jeff smiled knowingly. "As much as they love each other, Randy and Trish have never been good at communicating. Randy is probably spiralling into beating himself up." Batista nodded in agreement. "He's always been like that when it comes to Trish, blaming himself. And whilst he does have a lot to answer for, he ain't entirely blameless."

"How is Trish coping?" Victoria asked, hoping the fact that the news had moved her to tears wasn't obvious to everyone else.

"Like she always does," Jeff answered, smiling gently at her, "privately and with as much dignity as she can. But cutting him out of her life won't work, but she doesn't realise that, she never does. Every time something hurts her, she just distances herself and that helped caused the problem in the first place. They need to talk to sort this out."

As Jeff let that though sink in, he decided to reveal his plan, ignoring the looks from his wife. "Which is where we come in. Randy and Trish may have forgotten how to talk to each other, but we can help them get it back."

"What? Are you crazy?" Melina asked. Somehow she doubted either Randy or Trish would appreciate them wading in feet first into what she imagined would be a devastating break up. The more she thought about it, the more Melina realised she couldn't imagine Randy Trish without each other. They were Randy and Trish. How could they survive alone?

"My sentiments exactly." Lana said, gripping her own glass of water. "I've had this conversation and it doesn't faze him. Let him get through the rest of it."

Letting the comments pass, Jeff made sure he had everyone's attention. "Look, there isn't one of us here who can't say Randy and Trish haven't helped us in our own marriages. I mean they set the standard and helped the rest of us get together. Well now they need our help, and we owe it to our friends to do this for them."

"Who are we to get involved in their marriage?" John's voice was laced with incredulity. "Who are we to presume to tell them how to make it better? Surely they need to do that themselves."

"We are their best friends." Jeff explained. "Who knows them better than we do? They need us, and whilst they may not realise it, sometimes you have to do what's right because you know that's what it is." John continued to look unconvinced. "If we can just get them talking, I know they can work this out. Do any of us just want to stand by and let them break up knowing it wasn't necessary, that we could've done something?"

As the silence gripped the table again, Victoria broke it with relish. "No, you're right Jeff. We have to do something."

"What's the plan Jeff? We're with you on this." Candice leaned over to squeeze Jeff's hand.

"We are?" Cena asked, but a look from Candice made him back down immediately. "We are."

Looking at Carlito, Batista and Melina, Jeff was relieved as they nodded their agreement to helping. He was silently grateful that they'd agreed. Luckily, Mickie and Punk had both agreed when he'd spoken to them earlier on the phone. It would take everyone's support to make this work.

"Vince McMahon's annual Benevolence Ball is just after Riley's birthday and they're both due to attend, albeit on different tables. Trish is getting a lifetime achievement award." Jeff explained. "Lana can get the two of them put on the same table, but from there we'll have to sit them down and get them talking no matter how they resist."

"We'll be staging an intervention," Lana translated, "but we have to prepare for some seriously bad reactions. They're proud people and they won't take kindly to us getting involved."

"If they weren't so god damn proud they wouldn't have fallen into this in the first place." Victoria spat, quietly enflamed with the idea of giving the Orton's a piece of her mind. "If they have a problem? Tough. They're gonna sit there and sort shit out or so help me I'll slap 'em both silly."

Carlito smiled, putting an affectionate arm around his wife.

"We're agreed then, we do this for Randy and Trish." Jeff looked to each of his friends, seeing his own sense of determination at saving his friends from each other reflected in their eyes. Beneath the table he felt Lana grip his hand, obviously showing her support.

Jeff knew that with everyone on board, they could make his plan work. The rest would be up to Randy and Trish themselves.

* * *

**_A/N_: Lyrics are taken from Gypsy.**


	9. All I Ever Wanted

_**A/N**_**: Update. This chapter is very long, and I apologise for that, but I couldn't really cut it anywhere. C'mon guys, I know you're out there reading this. Reviews are love. Please R&R!!**

* * *

Fixing the clasp of the white gold earring, Trish studied her reflection in the mirror again. The silver shirt dress was modest, other than the fact it exposed her legs, which where still firm and blemish free and had no reason to be hidden. Truth be told, she'd agonised over her choice of outfit, feeling that anything sexy on herself was inappropriate for her daughter's party. And now that she was confronted with her reflection at close quarters, Trish wondered if it was inappropriate for a woman of her age to dress like this at all.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but she didn't remember half the wrinkles she saw being there a few days ago. Wondering if the stress of the past few weeks had done something to bring the age lines out of her, she sighed. Now wasn't the time to be dwelling on her problems. The night was about her daughter, assuming she decided to grace anyone with her presence.

Turning to the left, Trish rested her hands on her hips as she looked upstairs. They were due at the club in two minutes to kick off the party and so far she hadn't so much as glimpsed her daughter. She'd locked herself in her room in the early afternoon to get ready and hadn't been seen since. "Riley! Would you hurry up, you're going to be late!" Her voice lowering to a mutter, Trish shook her head. "And the club is bleeding me dry by the _hour_."

Movement at the top of the stairs caught her attention. Daring to hope that her daughter was finally ready, Trish was disappointed that it wasn't. Barely managing the first syllable of '_Parker_', she ended in a growl as her teenage son slid quite expertly down the banister to come to a jumping halt just in front of her.

"Hey Mom. Ready." With a grin, Parker pulled his jeans up slightly at the back, obvious to his mother's displeasure.

Arching an eyebrow, Trish silently inspected her son. Under the weight of her stare, Parker could himself standing up straighter, as if he were undergoing some sort of military inspection.

Trish was impressed. The jeans were stylish but well presented. Not thrilled with how low they hung on his hips, she said nothing as she knew the groaned response would be how '_uncool_' or '_old_' she was. The shirt was a clean, dark blue pinstripe and actually, gods preserve her, pressed to perfection. Even the tie he wore was almost perfect. Reaching forward, Trish straightened it a little without tightening it. It looked good loose around his neck.

Tilting his head slightly, Parker grinned. "Do I pass?"

Falling silent for a moment, Trish hadn't realised how much Parker looked like his father. The way he had angled his head, the self assured smile on his face, it was like looking at Randy. Smiling, Trish squeezed his shoulder and nodded. Relieved, Parker dashed off to the kitchen as Trish moved to the bottom of the stairs.

"Riley Kendall Orton! If I have to come up those stairs I will drag you out of this house, ready or not. We need to go." Glancing up to the top landing, Trish's breath was stolen away.

Standing on the landing was Riley. Dressed in a white, strapless chiffon dress, the empire waist encrusted with tiny silver beads accentuated her figure without it being in a garish way. The dress came down to her mid thigh, a length that was acceptable to Trish. Her caramel blonde hair was clipped behind one ear with a diamond encrusted clip, and fell down in big, soft curls around her face. She looked the essence of youthful beauty, and Trish could feel tears burn her eyes at the sight. As much as Trish wanted to deny it, her daughter was a woman now, a beautiful eighteen year old adult and in the first flush of adulthood.

The doorbell chiming stopped Trish from gushing with praise for her daughter, and she was strangely gratified. She doubted Riley would appreciate her mother bawling at the sight of her.

Holding up a finger to indicate her to wait, Trish turned and headed to the door. She hadn't expected anyone to call, but guessed it was probably one of Riley's friends wanting to go to the party with her. Pulling the door open, Trish felt horror and surprise clash somewhere in the pit of her stomach.

On her porch, dressed in a stunning black shirt and dark grey pants was Troy Mackenzie, Trish's lawyer and DeWitt-Augustine liaison. In his hands he held a box, gift wrapped and obviously from Tiffany's. Swallowing loudly, Trish peered inquisitively at him.

"Troy, what are you doing here?" Hoping the panic didn't sound in her voice, she resisted the urge to look guiltily back at her daughter. How would she explain this to Riley?

In her head, the moment in the office when Troy had been forthright with his feelings, trying to kiss her, played cruelly for her now.

Shifting his feet, Troy smiled bashfully. "I'm sorry to just drop by like this, but I wanted to bring my gift for Riley." He held the box forward. "And to ask if I could have the pleasure of escorting you to the party tonight?"

"The party?" Her mouth dry, Trish's head pounded with confusion.

"You invited me a while back, remember?" Trish looked blank. Had she invited him? She couldn't remember doing it, but then it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility as they were friends. Or at least they had been until recently. Picking up on Trish's discomfort, he took a step back. "Or I could just go…"

"No," Trish said a little too quickly, "no it's fine. I just wasn't expecting you to come…y'know…here."

"I wasn't either," he admitted with another shy smile. Obviously feeling encouraged, Troy took a step forward and was now a little too close to Trish, who was still frozen against the open door, "and I this probably wasn't my greatest idea. But the truth is Trish, I felt like I had to apologise…"

"Apologise for what?"

Riley's voice behind her made Trish inwardly wince. This was quickly spiralling out of control. The last thing Trish needed or wanted was to be reminded of Troy's little indiscretion or her children finding out about it.

"Nothing baby," Trish turned with a smile. "Troy's brought you your gift, though."

Peering over her mother's shoulder, Riley cocked an eyebrow. Something about the way her mother was nervously shifting from foot to foot was spoke volumes alongside Troy's smiles. Opening her mouth to say as much, she was silenced by the sound of feet crunching on gravel.

In what felt like slow motion, all three turned to see the approaching figure of Randy Orton. Spotting them in the doorway, he held still for a moment, his eyes alive with consideration as he tried to puzzle out what was going on before him. He wasn't expecting the door to be open, nor to see Trish's lawyer standing in the doorway. Unease curdled inside his chest, but he kept quiet. The confused look passed from his face in a second and he continued toward the house.

"Daddy!" Riley grinned.

"Hey baby girl." He smiled back, his eyes widened in shock at how beautiful she looked. "You look amazing. Trish." Randy turned to his wife, smiling sadly at her. "Troy." His voice was harder, a threat of menace behind his eyes that was obvious but guarded.

"Randy," Trish breathed out almost at a whisper, "what are you doing here?" Had the world somehow fallen askew? Who would turn up next, Vince McMahon?

"Well," he began softly, shifting his feet, "I though maybe I could be an escort for the party."

Trish blinked once. Twice. A third time. Had she heard him correctly? Was Randy really asking to take her to the party? After everything that had gone on between them, not to mention the divorce that was looming over their heads, he honestly had the nerve to ask her out like it were some kind of date?

Her face flushing with colour, she replied: "Randy, I really don't think that it's a good idea for you and me to…"

"I didn't mean you, Trish," he was smiling now, amused, but in a friendly way. "I meant Riley. I hoped to take my daughter to her eighteenth birthday party, if she'll let me."

Riley's eyes came alive, both with pleasure and threat. Like a shark sensing blood, she glanced nonchalantly at her mother and Troy. "I'd love that. And it works out great. You just missed Troy offering to take mom to the party. That was sweet of him, wasn't it Daddy?"

She instantly regretted opening her mouth at the look of hurt that masked her father's features. It was replaced by a stony expression, one that made her shiver. Riley hadn't meant to hurt him at all, but to point out how her mother was behaving. Realising she'd said the wrong thing; she slunk forward to stand at her father's side. Turning back to her mother, she almost stumbled at the aching betrayal she saw in her face. Chastised, she clung to her father's arm.

"Really." Randy's voice broke the silence, only it didn't sound like him. The voice was distant and hard. "Trish?"

The question was so fully loaded, Randy's way of asking a barrage of fears, that she felt crushed by the expectation all around her. Reeling at the actions of her daughter, she forced down a wave of bile and nausea. What had she done to make Riley hate her that much? Was she truly such a monstrous mother? That barb had gone way beyond the usual mother and teenage daughter clash, and was just downright spiteful. And the way Troy was looking at her. Anger, frustration and pain showed in his face. And defiance. He obviously felt no shame in his intentions for being there at all. It was all beyond Trish's ability to cope with.

"I'm going to the party alone." Her voice was cold, the bitterest chill directed solely at her daughter. If the gloves were off between them, she wasn't about to let Riley forget who was the parent and who was the child. She turned to Troy. "I'll see you there, Troy."

Finally, she addressed her estranged husband. She didn't know whether she wanted to scream or cry. Probably both. "If you wouldn't mind taking Parker as well as _your_ daughter, I'd be grateful."

The way she said the words felt like a viscous slap across the face to Riley, but she stayed quite. Guilt flooded Randy, so much so that he wanted nothing more than to reach out to Trish and take her in his arms, to sooth away the pain he saw in her. But he lost that right along time ago and he was all too aware of it.

"Trish…" he began, but it was already too late. Trish had already turned her back and headed into the house. Standing in her wake was an angry looking Parker, who was shooting warning glares at Troy.

Sensing he had outstayed his welcome, Troy took his leave and headed back to his car. Watching the lawyer's retreating form, Parker finally turned his attention on Riley. The look he gave her was nothing short of murderous. Stepping down of the porch he walked past her, purposely nudging her with his shoulder as he walked to his father's waiting car.

Under his instruction, Riley followed Parker to the car as Randy took a step toward the house. Trish was just inside the doorway, her back still turned, her face held in her hands. The way her body trembled, he knew she was crying. Flexing his fingers, Randy carefully reached out his hand to place it gently on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. But to Randy's eternal shame and regret, he didn't. He let her cry. He didn't know how to make it better for Trish, not anymore.

Taking a step back, he quietly pulled the door closed and headed to his car, his own tears blurring his vision.

* * *

The journey to the club was driven in silence, Riley facing forward into the night in the passenger seat. She didn't dare to look back at her brother who she was certain was plotting her death. She couldn't even bring herself to look at her father, who seemed more than distressed after her massive miscalculation at the house.

No sooner had they arrived and the car stopped had Riley immediately set foot out of the car and straight into the club. Randy was happy to let her go, preferring to speak to the owner of the club and regain some sense of composure before he saw Riley again. Parker however, was not prepared to give her such a grace period.

Marching straight into the club, he caught up with Riley who had just set foot inside. Thankfully nobody had spotted her arrival yet, as Parker grabbed her by the arm and immediately pulled her into a darkened corner, out of the view of everyone else in the club.

"Ow!" Riley shrieked, slapping her hands at Parker's vice like grip on her wrist. "Get the hell off me, you freak."

Spinning Riley around, Parker clamped his hands on both of her shoulders, his crystal blue eyes burning into hers. "What the fuck are you playing at Riley? Why do you have to be such a bitch all the damn time?"

Spluttering with incredulity, Riley shrugged both her younger brother's arms off her. "_Me_?! I am not a bitch! She is the bitch! She is the one who brought it on herself for having that pervert lawyer come to the house. What are you yelling at me about it? It's her fault! She just decided to…"

"_She_ happens to be _our_ mother," Parker growled, interrupting Riley and clearly not amused at his sister's antics, "and you should learn to shut your mouth if you can't stop it from spitting poison at her." Riley squeaked in shock, taken back by the ferocity in her brother's words. "I'm serious Riley, why do you have to give her such a hard time, every single day? She's worked her ass off getting this club ready for your birthday, and the first change you get, you humiliate her in front of Dad!"

"Wake up Parker! If she was humiliated, she did it herself for getting involved with that creep Troy," Riley countered with narrowed eyes, "Mom is not the whiter-than-white angel you think she is. And even if she was, we don't see eye to eye, and we never really did. She's an overbearing, obnoxious and irritating person to live with who is constantly interfering with my life. If you had the slightest clue what I've been through these past couple of weeks, maybe _you_ wouldn't be giving _me_ such a hard time about it."

With a huff, Riley folded her arms and half turned her back on her brother. How dare he attack her like that, on her birthday of all days? Why was she always the one made to look like the bad guy all the time? Was everyone else blind to her mother's evil ways? Did Trish Stratus really have that much power over men that her own husband and son couldn't see just what a self home-wrecker she was?

Softening slightly, Parker sighed, exhausted by the evening already and feeling that he'd maybe gone at his sister just a little too harshly. "Look, I'm sorry you're hurting because of that asshole Jeremy, but you can't take it out on Mom all the time." Ignoring the look she shot him, Parker continued. "And you can't keep trying to score points off her in front of Dad. How are they ever gonna get back together if they have you driving wedges between them?"

Rolling her eyes, Riley turned back to face her brother. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she shook her head softly. "There not going to work it out Parker, because Mom doesn't want to. She moved us, remember? Separated us from Dad deliberately. She's the one who has kept him away from the house and she is the one making herself miserable for the sake of martyrdom. Excuse me if I don't want to wallow down there with her."

Parker wavered at that. She had him on that point, that their mother had separated them from their father. He'd always just assumed they'd work it out. It had never occurred to him before that his mother had engineered things so they would stay apart. His parent's marriage wasn't really at an end, was it? "Yeah, well that doesn't mean it's over for them. They can work through their problems, I know they can. But please Riley, I am begging you, just cut her a little bit of slack. Please? Do it for me?"

Glaring at Parker for as long as she could, she never could stay angry at her brother for any reason. Finally, her face creased into a smile as she pulled him into a hug. For all his hop tempered faults, he was still her baby brother and sometimes he needed his big sister to be the guide in his life. "Alright. For you, and no other reason. And it doesn't mean I have to actually start liking her."

Parker grinned. "Thanks Riley. And I am really sorry about Jeremy." Pulling back from the hug, he looked seriously into her eyes. "You know if I ever see him, I'll break his legs for you, don't you?"

Riley chuckled. "I know you would kid. Now go have some fun. Stay away from the alcohol!"

With a chuckle, Parker stepped out of the corner and started walking through the club. Watching him retreat, Riley smiled. For all his annoying little brother qualities, Parker had a big heart and Riley was grateful for his compassion. Hopefully she was as good a sister to him that she hoped she was.

Stepping out from behind the corner, Riley started to walk toward where her friends where gathered on the dance floor. Most of the girls from her class were there, dressed perfectly and having a good time. Dappled purple disco lights played across the floor and the walls to the beat of some Hip-Hop song that was flavour of the moment. Looking up to the DJ Booth, she considered going over and requesting something she could really move to when a hand shot from her left and grabbed her.

Stumbling, Riley felt herself dragged behind a pillar. What was with everyone and dragging her around tonight? The tug had come from Melody this time. At least she was pretty certain it was Melody. Dressed in a trench coat complete with a blonde bob wig and black sunglasses, she couldn't be entirely sure.

"Melody? What the hell are you…"

"Shush!" Melody hissed, glancing shiftily out from behind the pillar before looking back to Riley. "They can't know it's me."

Riley rolled her eyes. As if anyone couldn't tell, but she wasn't given the chance to speak as Melody spoke again. "I shall only say this once, so listen closely. Everything is ready for tonight. Jared will be waiting for you in the parking lot at 7pm. In the back seat will be your costume, complete with accessories as discussed. You will also find a CD containing your entrance theme. You will proceed to the arena and arrive at 7.45pm for your try out which will begin at exactly 7.50pm. At that moment, I will have begun my performance here in the club."

Riley smirked at the thought, but said nothing as Melody continued in the same hushed tone, clearly taking the business very seriously.

"You will have exactly twenty five minutes to take part in your match and secure a win, to be sure of your place at the regional try-outs. Jared will be waiting for you in the arena parking lot, and you will be back in the club at 9pm, just before you are presented with your birthday cake. You cannot, for any reason be back here later than 9pm as all my distractions will be complete by that point. Any questions? Good. Proceed Ms. Orton."

And with that, Melody was gone, slinking through the shadows to somewhere at the back of the club. Chuckling softly to herself, Riley had to hand it to her friend for the level of her planning. It would all go like clockwork, she hoped, and in a couple of hours she'd be back here without anybody realising she'd gone, now with her own guaranteed try out for the WWE. Shivering with excitement, she headed back out onto the dance floor, once more intending to meet with her friends and keep up appearances for the next hour or so.

Watching his daughter cross the dance floor, Randy sighed. Part of him wanted to yell at her loudly for what she did back at the house. Or maybe more accurately, what she'd tried to do. He'd known she was clever but had never expected her to be devious. And still, he wanted to crush her close to him and hug Riley for all he was worth after what she'd done. Perhaps he was twisted to get pleasure out of his daughter trying to attack her mother in front of him, but it proved to Randy that she still loved him.

And that thought was precious to him. Lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips, he silently toasted his beautiful, if mean spirited daughter, and drained the contents of the glass. Placing it upside down on the bar, he looked backed at the entrance where his wife was just arriving.

She looked so beautiful in the light, her big brown eyes sparkling from the tears she'd cried. Even now, he felt as though he'd never deserved her, that he didn't deserve to know her let alone love her. She'd been his saving grace since they'd met, and now he was forced with the prospect of losing her forever. Well he may be old and beaten up, but he was still Randy Orton. And he would not give up Trish without a fight.

Dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, he started to move across the room toward her but stopped as Troy came into view. The way he slithered up and placed his hand on Trish's lower back made his skin crawl. Trish stiffened at the contact, and turned to speak to him. Maybe it was Randy's imagination, but the way she twisted toward him looked like it'd been done before, like Trish was used to turning into Troy's embrace. Her head was titled back like she expected a kiss, and Randy felt sick.

It was over. Rand had lost her, and Troy was clearly ready to pick up the pieces. They were so close, they looked like they were intimate, and the sight burned his eyes. Randy knew he should turn away. Maybe the gallons of alcohol on the bar behind him would quench the searing pain in his heart. He just had to turn away from the sight in front of him.

Just as he was about to, their conversation seemed to become more agitated. They talked at close quarters for a second more, even as Trish tried to put distance between them. Finally, she pushed his arms away and shook her head. Hope sparked dimly in Randy's chest.

Trish looked distressed, and not even in the direction of where she was going. Troy looked pained, his eyes following her direction and locked eyes with Randy. Without even realising it, Trish was walking toward him and Troy knew it. He made a move to follow her, but stopped at the look Randy gave him. For a second, Troy looked as though he was going to ignore the warning and pursue Trish, but stopped. Either he thought better of it, or he was living to fight another day. Whatever the reason, Randy was relieved.

He stepped forward, causing Trish to stop. She looked up, and froze as Randy moved forward to meet her. Concern was etched into his face, although she couldn't tell who it was for. Feeling bruised and self conscious, Trish wrapped her arms around herself, as Randy wished he could be the arms she needed.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly. Glancing beyond Trish, he glared at Troy who was moving away toward another bar before back at Trish.

"I'm fine." She looked up to meet his eyes, and he knew she wasn't, but said nothing.

Shifting his weight onto his left leg, Randy dared to step closer. Trish didn't flinch of move back, and his heart exploded with joy. "I'm sorry for what happened at the house."

Trish shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's not really her fault. She's still hurt and upset about Jeremy, I think, and she's taking it out on anyone close. I'd rather it be me that you."

Randy smiled, honestly and unashamedly. Trish returned the smile. She knew how father and daughter idolised each other, and she couldn't stand the thought of Riley hurting Randy, even it meant she had to be emotionally sucker punched like today.

"I could talk to her," Randy hesitated, "if you like. She needs to realise that she's better than him and shouldn't be so upset about the break-up."

Trish smiled wryly. If only it were ever that simple with a teenage daughter. And a generic teenager was easier to deal with than Riley Orton, Trish knew. "Trust me Randy, she won't listen. And besides, I already tried."

Silence fell between them, more so on Randy's side. His wife looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Keeping quiet, he let her. "Randy, about what happened at the house…"

"Don't worry about it," he answered quietly. He really didn't want to be reminded of what he nearly walked in on. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." Instinctively, Trish reached out for Randy's hand. Once she had it, she wavered slightly on letting it go, before she finally held it between both her hands. Randy was shocked into silence, aglow at the feeling of Trish's hands on his. "There is nothing going on between me and Troy. I explained to him that it was inappropriate for him to show up like that."

"Doesn't stop him from having feeling for you." Randy's voice was that of a sulking child, although Trish didn't seem to notice.

Why she'd ever thought it was obvious only to her that Troy was in love with her now seemed stupid. Wondering how many other people had seen it, she felt obliged to tell the truth. "He just told me he loved me." Randy flinched, and tried to pull his hand back but Trish wouldn't let him. "I made it clear it was never going to happen. I don't love him, nor any other man for that matter."

"Why not?" Randy knew he was pushing his limits, but he had to hear Trish say it. Maybe if he could get her to admit her feelings, he could do something towards saving their marriage.

"Because…because…" Trish faltered. She knew why she could never love another man, but didn't know if she could admit it to the only man she would ever love. Irony always did stink like that. "Because I love you Randy, god help me. And no matter what happens after this divorce, that won't change. Nothing would ever change that."

Lifting his other hand, Randy placed it carefully on top of hers. Slowly, his hands slid down her elbows and rested there. Trish pressed her hands against Randy's chest, and he wasn't sure if it was because she wanted to feel him as badly he did her, or that she was trying to create a barrier between them.

"I love you too Trish," his voice was barely a whisper, but it seemed to cut through the din of the club to reach her, "I always have and I swear I always will. I have made so many mistakes and I've lost everything because of it. I know I can't put it right, but I know I can be what you need me to be now, if you'll just let me. "

Hesitantly, Trish looked up at him as his arms wrapped around her. "Randy, what are you saying?" As ever, his height caused her to have to arch her neck slightly. Randy leaned forward, ignoring the protesting muscles in his back. As he leaned toward her, he felt old feelings stirring deep in his gut. He hoped Trish felt it too, and reasoned she must if her hands sliding around his back were anything to go by.

Randy was close to her now he could almost taste her lips. And somehow he knew, if he could just press his lips to her, he could kiss away all her worries and fears and hurt and make everything right between them. "I'm saying that I don't want this divorce Trish. All I want is you. It's all I have ever wanted."

The walls around her heart crumbling, Trish felt herself rise on her feet to reach his mouth. Just being here, inside his arms, warmed her deep into her soul. Somehow nothing mattered, not what had occurred before tonight and not what would happen, just that they were here now. The two of them together, just as they always had been, how it always should have been. Trish knew that if she just kissed him, she would fall in love all over again.

Their mouths and inch apart, Trish let her eyes fall close. Taking it as encouragement, Randy closed the distance. A symphony of emotion flared in his head as he felt the soft caress of her lips barely touch his.

As he moved to kiss her fully, a sudden start at the entrance of the club stopped him. The spell was broken, and Randy knew the moment was lost forever. The guard Trish had around herself was back up, and Randy knew it. She practically strode out his arms and leant against the bar to stop herself from falling. Hand against her chest, it heaved in panic, eyes wild and filled with shame.

Randy, desperate to get the moment back, stepped toward her. He would not lose Trish, not after he'd been so close to getting her back.

The sprinting Parker stopped him as their son ran between them. Both Trish and Randy looked to see where he was running to, and were just in time to watch Parker throw himself at the startled form of Jeremy.

Screams and shrieks filled the club as Parker and Jeremy toppled to the ground, Parker smacking Jeremy around the head with closed fists.

Breaking into a run, Trish just behind him, Randy flew toward the entrance. Lucas and John Cena were there before them however. Gripping Parker around the waist, Lucas struggled to pull the younger man back. Like a rage filled animal, he swung his fists, violently trying to break free of Lucas's grip. His anger spent, Parker was finally subdued, panting loudly, eyes narrowed and glaring toward Jeremy.

With a bloodied nose and a split lip, he held his hand to his right eye that had already started to swell after the repeated blows. "Are you crazy man? You're a psycho! You don't just go around attacking people!" He directed the statement toward Parker, who made an attempt to break free of Lucas' iron grip once more.

"I think you're the crazy one for being here," John stated, dragging Jeremy up by the collar of his shirt, "so I suggest you shut your trap before I tell my boy to let Parker go and we all take turns beating the crap out of you."

Suitably chastised, Jeremy shrank back, only to bump into the imposing form of Eli Hardy. Behind him were his parents, who also looked less than amused at Jeremy's presence in the club. Trish and Randy had now reached them, Trish stepping forward to check out Parker. Satisfied he was unhurt, she turned her attention on Jeremy who flinched before her stare. "What are you doing here?"

"My question exactly." Slipping through the crowd that had formed, Riley moved to stand next to her mother. "You're not invited Jeremy."

Swallowing, Jeremy obviously didn't want an audience for what he was about to say. Knowing he wasn't going to get any hint of privacy with Riley, he squared his shoulders and said what he'd come to say. "I came to apologise Riley. To tell you I know I've been an idiot and ruined what we had."

Looking bored, Melody who had reappeared now without her disguise, moved into place next to Riley. "Yeah, and...?"

Struggling to keep back a stinging retort and ignoring the glares all around him, Jeremy focused back on Riley. "I'm sorry baby. Please, will you give me another chance? I swear I'll never cheat on you again."

Riley hesitated, and Randy felt his stomach sink. He hoped to God that she wasn't even considering what he feared she was. Was she so deluded to believe any of that drivel Jeremy had just dribbled? Finally she spoke, and he held his breath, hoping she wasn't about to make the stupidest decision of her young life.

"Uncle John, would you mind getting this lowlife out of here before I kill him?" Riley's request was calm, and she felt strengthened as Randy put his hand on her shoulder.

"Not if I kill him first." He said.

Nodding to Lucas who released Parker to the care of Trish, John and his son each took Jeremy by an arm and dragged him out as he kicked and hollered his dissent and being removed. Eli wandered over to Parker and the pair retreated to the corner as the crowd dispersed back around the club, all chattering excitedly about what had just happened.

Randy looked to Trish, who met his eyes. All the emotion he'd seen only moments ago was now gone. Cold and hard, she turned her back on him and headed over to the bar where Troy was still sat. Fighting back a wave of despair, Randy moved to Riley who now had her hands on her hips, watching John and Lucas come back inside. Randy may have lost the moment with Trish, but now he knew for sure how she felt. If she thought it was over, well then she was going to get a huge surprise. No matter what, Randy knew now that he was going to get his wife back.

Placing his arm around Riley's shoulder, she turned to look up at him. "You okay baby girl?"

"I'm fine Daddy," she answered softly. That wasn't true, but her father didn't need to hear it. The last thing she wanted to admit was that she'd come so close to taking Jeremy back. "You mind covering for me? I could use some air."

"Sure thing," he replied, kissing the top of her head, "you want some company?"

"Nah. Just need a little time by myself to sort all this stuff out in my head. I'll be back." Stretching on her tip toes, she kissed his cheek before walking toward the exit. She glanced over to Melody, who only nodded imperceptibly.

Randy watched Riley for another moment before he headed after Parker. He needed to be a parent and tell his son how violence wasn't the answer to any of life's problems, but he was damn proud of him anyway.

Outside, Riley quickly made her way to the parking lot at the back of club. As Melody had promised, there was Jared sat in his car, waiting to take her to the arena. With a grin, Riley realised she may have to actually thank Jeremy at some point. The little scene he created had given her the perfect cover to get outside for a while. Hopefully that would buy her a little more time at the arena.

Heading toward the car, she felt another shiver of excitement and took a deep breath as she slid into the seat next to Jared.

_Here goes nothing._


	10. Party For Two: The Try Out

_**A/N**__**: **_**Another update for your reading pleasure. If you read this, please review. Reviews are love, and I like to know what you think. I haven't said it for a while, but I disclaim!**

* * *

Chewing on her bottom lip, Riley watched as the streetlights began to flicker on in the balmy California evening. Circles of amber light whizzed over and past her face, bathing the inside of the car for brief seconds each time. Eyes fixed on the road ahead, she pretended that the sinking feeling that had been plaguing the back of her mind now hadn't progressed to full blown nausea.

The plan had seemed so simple yesterday, just a matter of getting to and from the arena before anyone remarked on her absence at her birthday party. Now however, the further away she got from the club, the more she imagined her parents ranting and raving that she had vanished and were organising search parties and god knows else what. Visions of her mother waiting for her at the arena, face full of menace for skipping the party and going against her wishes made Riley grip the seat a little more firmly than was necessary. Swallowing loudly, she hoped this escapade worked as she had hoped it would. The consequences of failing didn't bare thinking about.

Glancing from the driver's seat next to her, Jared frowned. It had taken a lot of persuading, not to mention copious amounts of wild, naked sex with Melody to convince him to take part in this little scheme. It wasn't as though he minded helping Riley out, despite the break-up with his best friend. If he was being honest, he thought Jeremy a total jerk for cheating on Riley, and would help her regardless.

It was the looming spectre of Randy Orton and the ass-kicking he would deliver if he found out what Riley was up to and how he was involved that left Jared on the verge of soiling his pants. Moistening his lips, Riley's agitated silence was making him even more nervous and he doubted his bladder control would last the journey.

Reaching forward, he flicked on the radio, the sounds of generic rock softly filling the vehicle. Riley looked at him, smiling softly as the circles of streetlights continued to dance over her concerned expression.

"You wanna say something Riley?" Grinning in his usual way, Jared looked lazily across at his passenger. "Uncomfortable silences give me gas."

Rolling her eyes, Riley rested her head on her hand, leaning against the door for support. She wasn't sure if Jared was being serious of not on the gas part, but she knew she wasn't being much company, despite all his valued help. Still, all she could think to talk about was her insane idea. "Tell me this isn't as stupid a plan as I think it is Jay."

Jared chuckled. "It's not as stupid as you think it is dude." Without missing a moment, Jared stormed straight in with: "It's even worse. And if you don't get your ass in the backseat and get yourself changed, like right now, it's going to be a hell of a lot worse again. At least, I can't see anyone winning a match in that little dress."

He was right. There was a tight schedule to follow, and she was in danger already of slipping behind. Unclipping her belt, Riley carefully slid between the two front seats and into the back of the moving car. Road safety be damned. In the front, Jared risked a look in the rear-view mirror, catching Riley's amused glance.

"Eyes on the road Jared."

With a grin, and a not so innocent shrug, he stared intently at the road, respecting his friend's privacy for the moment. "I may not be looking Riley, but you can't stop me imagining."

Not taking the gentle joking to heart, Riley just smiled. Certain Jared was no longer going to try and steal a look at her changing; she reached around to the back of her dress and pulled down the zip. Now loose at the torso, she was able to carefully pull it down over her legs and place it down onto the seat next to her. Readjusting the strapless bra she wore, Riley reached for the black duffel bag in the floor well behind Jared. Inside were the tools she needed to be prepared for her match tonight.

Pulling it open, she began removing her outfit for the evening. Slipping off her heels, Riley carefully shrugged on the black hot pants loaned by Melody. She was glad that she'd opted to wear a thong underneath as her dress, as these shorts were completely skin-tight, leaving very little to the imagination. Not wanting to guess where Melody had purchased them, Riley settled for what reason and where her friend would model the garment. Trying to get a glimpse of her behind in them, Riley had to grab the seat for dear life as the car swerved in the road.

"Jared," she cried, her side colliding with the door as the vehicle righted itself. "What the hell? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered before glancing back at Riley in the mirror, and more specifically the hot pants. "It's just…Riley…god damn! You plan on wrestling or giving a lap dance? Please let me take a few pictures? Pretty please?"

Shaking her head, Riley pointed forward to the road to which Jared once again gave his attention, albeit grudgingly.

Snatching the corset top out next, Riley carefully moulded it across her body, before fastening it at the front. It rested low enough on her breasts to be indecent, but not so much that the girls would be falling out at the starting bell. The matching boots Melody had provided came up to her knees, and whilst low heeled, still resembled something a stripper would look more at home in. This was not least because Melody has decided to throw in a pair of elbow length gloves to complete the look.

Now dressed, Riley started to work on her hair. It had taken hours to tease her mane into the loose curls for the party, but now she wrapped it up on the top of her head without a second thought. With an array of ties and clips, including the diamond encrusted one she'd worn for her party, every inch of her caramel blonde hair was secure against her scalp and pulled taut to ensure no strands would fall loose in the middle of the match. Taking the black silk eye mask from the bag, she carefully tied it around her face, positioning it carefully across her eyes in an effort to mask her identity.

Last to be retrieved was the wig. Removing the box from the bag, Riley lifted the black wig cut into a harsh bob, and carefully placed it over her head. Making sure the ties of her mask were hidden beneath it, she pinned it into place. It would take a dozen people to rip it off her head. Of course, if they managed to do that, they'd most likely take most of her scalp with it.

With the mirror from the bag, Riley checked her appearance. With a dose of luck, no-one would recognise her tonight. The disguise was flawless, and she knew she'd owe Melody for a dozen lifetimes for her help. Pulling a deep red lip gloss out, she smeared the sparkling scarlet over her lips, pouting a few times to her reflection to check full coverage as well as get into her 'Dominatrix' character.

"You about done Riley?" Came the question from the front. Snapping the mirror closed, Riley slid it into the bag along with her discarded dress and shoes.

"I think so." She replied confidently, although she felt anything but.

"Good." Betraying his nerves with a soft sigh Jared pulled the car to a stop behind the arena. "Because we're here."

Heart thudding in her chest, Riley reached for the door handle. Turning back to Jared, she looked searchingly into his eyes. "You'll be waiting right here?" He nodded in silence as she snatched up the black leather riding crop and the CD. "Okay, I'll be out in twenty-five minutes and no more. Wish me luck."

Not waiting for a response, Riley opened the door and slammed it closed, breaking into a gentle run across the car park toward the back entrance of the arena.

"Good luck." Jared replied softly to himself.

_

* * *

_

Dodging from pillar to pillar, Melody glanced around the club nervously. It was completely filled now with Riley's friends and acquaintances from school, not to mention a few parents and family friends from the wrestling business. Everyone was too focused on remarking on the club and how much effort the Orton's had put in, rather than seeking out the birthday girl at the moment.

Riley's parents were at separate ends of the room, Randy at one bar apparently looking for inspiration at the bottom of a whiskey glass. Trish looked all kinds of miserable at the other bar as some blonde man talked animatedly to her, gesticulating wildly.

Melody realised that they were her biggest problems, and should they put their minds to it together, would realise Riley was conspicuous by her absence. As long as they kept apart, Melody realised she may just get away with this scheme yet.

_So far, so good_, Melody assured herself. _Only another hour and thirty minutes to go and we're home free._

"Melody!"

_Oh crap._

Turning on her most charming smile, Melody glanced behind her to find the owner of the voice who had called to her. Crossing the dance floor, dressed in a gorgeous purple satin dress was Riley's oldest friend Madison Cena. Feeling her smile become genuine, Melody stepped into a warm embrace with the other girl.

"Madison, you look fabulous." Melody commented, holding the other girl at arms length to give her the once over. "Is that Dolce?"

"Yeah," Madison answered, blushing ever so slightly as the more sophisticated girl praised her outfit. She'd always looked up to Melody and her exquisite taste in clothes. "You look so good, how are you?"

"Oh you know me," Melody shrugged noncommittally. Anything else would have led to her confessing to her part in Riley's sojourn not to mention a few other indiscretions from her past. "Nothing to complain about. It's so great to see you. Did you come with your parents?"

Madison nodded. "Mom and I flew in last night, especially for the party. We're hanging for a day or two before we all go to that charity ball thing." Melody nodded, glancing over Madison's shoulder, keeping a watchful eye for anyone who may have clicked on the person missing. She was so distracted; she only just caught what Madison said. "I've been looking for Riley since I got here, do you know where she is Melody?"

Now Melody knew the test of her acting skills, not to mention service as a best friend was about to be called into play. If she couldn't convince the sixteen year old girl with her rehearsed reply, she had no hope of convincing anybody. "Oh, she's around here somewhere. You know Riley, mingling as always."

Madison smiled. "That sounds about right. Hey, I heard some of the girls talking about a drama before I got here. Know anything about it?"

Melody grinned conspiratorially. "Only Riley's loser ex showing up and having the cheek to ask for her to take him back. Honestly, boys can be so dense. Makes me wonder why we put up with them, y'know? And that loser was lucky I wasn't given the chance to get rid of him, because let me tell you, if I had…"

"Why am I glad that we'll never know the answer to that sentence?"

Cut off mid rant, Melody glanced over her shoulder to see the muscular frame of Madison's older brother Lucas standing close by. The pair knew each other vaguely, but Melody hadn't spoken to him in ages. Even after she'd seen him at Jeremy's party, it hadn't been close up and they hadn't spoken. Now she was confronted with him, Melody couldn't help but devour every curve and dip of his hard muscles. The way his dark green shirt stretched over his bulging chest made a searing heat sink down into her stomach and lower.

_When the hell did he get so hot_, Melody wondered, eyes travelling over inch of Lucas.

Quickly getting a grip of herself, Melody flashed him a seductive smile, determined to not be won over by mere physical charms. "Probably because you know it won't end well for your gender."

"That must be it," he smiled, holding her gaze for perhaps a moment too long before turning to Madison. Maybe it was Melody's imagination, but there was something in the look he gave her that made her hot all over. "Mom's looking for you Maisy. She's over with Victoria."

Looking in the direction that Lucas indicated, she nodded. With a quick finger wave, Madison headed toward where her mother was sat laughing with Victoria, soon to find out that she had made no such request to see her. However, by the time she realised it, she'd already left Melody alone with Lucas.

For some reason, Melody couldn't bring herself to look Lucas in the eye and felt completely stupid for it. When did she ever get nervous around a man? Was she really so shallow to be won over by a fantastic body and a gorgeous smile? Hardly. She was the heartbreaker of the county, probably the entire state, and she refused to allow herself to be played at her own game. If Lucas thought he could make her all hot and bothered with a few heavy stares, he was about to learn the true art of seduction.

Realising she couldn't keep looking at feet forever, not to mention continue her self-pep talk, Melody still couldn't look up just yet. Something told her that Lucas's gaze was searing every inch of her flesh, and found herself wishing she'd worn something a little more modest.

Just as she worked up the courage to look him in the eye, the DJ slipped on a song that fused dance and hip-hop into an irresistible beat. Without warning, Lucas reached over and took Melody's hand in his own. Forced to look up at him now, Melody felt her mouth hang open slightly as she was confronted with quite easily the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Bright blue eyes captured by a square jaw and the most delicious mouth she'd ever had the privilege of gazing up at.

"Dance with me." It was more of a command than a question by Lucas, but Melody was more than happy to be lead into the heart of the dance floor.

Taking her to the centre, Lucas spun her around in his arms, pressed her back to his front. Melody couldn't help but shiver as every ridge of Lucas' hard torso caressed her naked back. Even though the shirt he wore kept their flesh apart, she couldn't deny the heat that pulsed in waves between them. As Lucas rested his hands on her hips, she thought she'd melt on the spot.

His voice was a growl in her ear, throaty and overpowering and masculine. "I like the way you move Melody."

To make a point, Lucas eased his hips flush against Melody's back, the pair moving in perfect tandem. Nothing existed between their bodies except desire.

Even the way he said her name sounded dirty, and Melody had to admit that she loved it. Reaching her arms up, she carefully rested them around Lucas' neck, drawing his face closer to hers and moved her hips in perfect precision to the beat. Every twist and shake caressed Lucas into overdrive. "You haven't seen anything yet…"

How true that statement was to become, as the alarm clock she had taped to her inner thigh released a shrill cry that cut through the sound of the music. Ripped from the hedonistic moment, Melody had to give herself a mental shake as she stepped away from Lucas's warm, hard body and slapped the alarm into silence. Lucas eyed her with an inquisitive stare, and she simply smiled as though it were the most natural thing in the world to have a clock strapped to the inside of one's thigh.

In reality, the alarm meant that the time for her performance was fast approaching. She'd timed herself and knew the entire routine would take thirty minutes once she'd begun. It was an intricate mix of dance and burlesque, and would hopefully be distracting enough to make sure no-one questioned Riley's absence, and give her friend enough time to perform at the arena.

Turning to face Lucas, Melody threw a sultry look his way, making sure that he knew things weren't over yet. "Don't go too far from the stage now gorgeous. You're about to have the best night of your life."

Arching an eyebrow, Lucas could only look on as Melody sauntered off to the changing room. Her ass, a perfect inverted heart shape, swayed irresistibly to the music as she walked away. Licking his lips, Lucas had to exercise a level of self control he never knew he had as he allowed that tantalising sight to escape him. Running his hands over his face, he had to think of something less appealing before he took someone's eye out with his raging manhood.

He'd harboured a secret crush on Melody for a while, and had finally decided to act on it. He doubted Riley would have a problem with it, and hoped Melody would give him the chance to go about I the right way. For now however, he had her in his sights, and he wasn't about to let her go. The raw masculine side of himself refused to, as though he had claimed her as his own and it would be only a matter of time before he had her. _Let her play hard to get_, Lucas mused, _I've got all night_.

Taking a seat near the stage, he waited with anticipation to see what would happen next.

_

* * *

_

It seemed Riley's luck was holding out, as the loading bay doors to the arena were open, most like to allow the wrestling ring to be removed later. It probably wasn't necessary to get in this way, but she didn't want to take any chances. Security was not as tight as it could have been, so the young woman was able to sneak through the bay and into the belly of the arena without anyone noticing her at all.

The evening's show was already underway, if the sounds of the chanting crowd were anything to go by. Every lull in noise was followed by an explosion of cheers, obviously as the favoured performer hit a move. Nerves shuddered down her spine, leaving a chill in its wake and doubt plagued her mind.

It wasn't as if Riley had never experienced a live crowd before. There had been many times over the years at house shows where her father had called her into the ring and presented her to the WWE Universe. She'd seen him cheered, adored, booed and hated for his persona. No emotion or chant should be able to phase her, she'd truly seen and heard them all. And yet, the sound of the crowd awoke a fear in Riley she had never known before, one so vivid it threatened to turn her legs completely weak. Images of a gladiator arena took seed in her mind, a crowd of people screaming for pain and blood from one of the performers. Was that how tonight was going to end up?

Shuddering again, she picked up the pace and left the images behind her, jogging through the maze of grey cement corridors to where she knew the arena was. The closer she got to the sound, the more people she saw. Trainee wrestlers, wrestling agents, trainers and other try-outs were dotted around. Ignoring them, Riley continued her jog, ending when she finally spied the booking agent propped up against a wall, counting a wad of green notes that the evening had earned.

Stopping in front of him, Riley arched an eyebrow as he seemed more interested in his money that acknowledging her presence. Clearing her throat obviously wasn't the best idea, as after she'd done it, the booker sighed and slapped the money down on the table.

"Are ya fuckin' happy princess?" He spat in a gravely voice, removing the cigar from his mouth and holding it between two podgy fingers as an obvious flout of the no smoking rules. "Ya made me lose fuckin' count. What the fuck do you want?"

Resisting the urge to pull a revolted face, Riley remembered she was here for a reason, and she was now playing a character. "I'm here to try out for the WWE."

Letting his bulging black eyes travel over her briefly, the booker exploded into riotous laughter. His huge stomach shook with the effort of laughing so hard, throwing his head back to expose a forest of nasal hair protruding from his nose.

Trying to regain composure, he dabbed at his eyes with a fifty dollar bill. "You? Try out? Fuck me princess, this ain't no strip joint. We put on a fuckin' family show here for fucks sake? We don't want no fuckin' shenanigans in our ring, you understand?"

Keeping her cool, Riley twirled the leather riding crop in her hands. "I'm here to try out," she repeated. "Where do I sign up?"

"You don't," he grinned, exposing a set of missing teeth Mick Foley would be envious of, "even if I believed for a fuckin' second you were serious, sign-ups closed at five-thirty princess. If you was serious about getting in the business, you would've found that out before comin' here and wastin' my fuckin' time."

Swallowing a wave of despair, Riley resorted for different tactics. Resting her hands on the table, she leaned forward just enough so that the swell of her breasts were in obvious sight of the booker. Desperate times called for desperate measures after all. "Are you telling me you can't find me a position somewhere on tonight's programme?"

Eyes lost in the valley of Riley's breasts, the booker chomped down on his cigar. "That's exactly what I'm fuckin' saying princess. No space left for nobody, not even a two dollar tramp like yourself."

Defeated, Riley stood up, feeling utterly dejected. It had been a complete waste of time. All that planning and scheming for nothing. Her dreams of becoming a wrestler and getting on the road with her father had just been dashed with a sneering smile from the booker. Turning, she began to walk back the way she came, lost beneath a cloud of despair.

She was so engrossed in her own misery she almost missed what the booker said to her back. "…and it's not as if you had a chance princess. Guy in the ring right now? He aced his fuckin' try out and has beaten every other fuckin' dude that's won theirs since this afternoon. A dead fuckin' cert for the developmental try-out he is. Guy is a machine, and a man like me couldn't in good fuckin' conscious put a princess like you in his path. Eat you fuckin' alive, he would."

Ignoring the hungry gaze he directed at the junction of her thighs, Riley saw her chance and took it. "You think so, do you?"

"I fuckin' know so princess." He gurgled with glee. "No dumb broad like you could ever have what it fuckin' takes to take him down."

Now that she had his interest, Riley moved in for the kill. "Fifty bucks says I go into that ring and beat him. And a hundred bucks says I get cheered when I do."

Another roar of laughter from the booker. "You can't be fuckin' serious. The people fuckin' love him. They all wanna suck his meat he'd that good. Cheer you? Jesus to-fuckin'-night." Looking at Riley, his demeanour sobered at the light in her eyes, his laughter killed in his throat. "Sweet mother of Jesus, you're _are_ fuckin' serious. You wanna get in the ring with him princess, you be my fuckin' guest." Grabbing a clip board at his side, he thrust it across the table at her. "Just make sure you got your fuckin' momma on speed dial to help you pick up the pieces when he's through with you."

Nodding, Riley quickly scribbled her details down onto the sheet, and handing it back to the booker. Signing off on it, he tore a section off and gave it to Riley. "Give that to the technical monkeys princess." Taking the slip of paper, Riley saluted before running off toward the direction of the ring. Picking up the sheet, the booker called after her: "And Dita, you make sure you hobble your pretty fuckin' ass back here with my one hundred and fuckin' fifty bucks afterwards!"

Ignoring the final jibe, Riley raced around the corner to where the curtain position was set up, already imagining the look on his fat face when she returned triumphant.

As it was a local try out, the level of performance wasn't as great as a live show. The technical team were not in a separate area; rather they were seated at the curtain, crushed around a table and lost in a sea of black cables. The leader of the team nodded at Riley, taking the slip out of her hand. The name 'Earl' was stitched into the breast pocket of his shirt. He motioned for another man to come over, but Riley hardly noticed. Just beyond that curtain, a crowd of a good few thousand were chanting a name in unison, although she couldn't quite work out what it was.

The second man approached, dressed in smart trousers and a plain black shirt. He gave Riley a salacious once over, before grinning in what he obviously thought was an attractive way. "Name, sweetheart?"

"Dita," she replied, surprised at how well she managed to mask the nerves in her voice. And as she was in character, she decided to add for good measure: "Consider me your mistress."

A smile flickered on the man's face as he scribbled it down on a card. "Home town?"

"California."

Nodding, he added that. Earl came back to Riley's side, taking the CD from her. "Your entrance music Dita?" Riley nodded. "Okay. You're up next. We'll get it ready."

The man in the black shirt grinned and wished her good luck. Riley now noticed the microphone he held in his hand, and realised he must be the announcer. Turning on his heel, he plunged out between the curtains, exposing the crowd for just a moment. Catching her breath, Riley realised that just beyond that thin stretch of fabric rested the answer to every hope, fear and dream she'd ever had for her future. The thought was enough to floor her, but she tried desperately to hold it together.

Focusing on the task at hand, she began to stretch out her muscles and jogged on the spot in a quick effort to warm up. The crowd had started to cheer again because the announcer had arrived, and his disembodied voice boomed through the arena.

"_Ladies and gentleman, you've been a great audience tonight_." A massive round of cheers. "_Best we've seen since we started these try outs. And as a thank you, we've got one more match for you to enjoy_." Another load of cheers, this time more fervent. "_Once again, you're going to see your man in the ring take on his next victim…or should I say opponent?_"

Riley pulled a face at the insult, but the crowd lapped it up. Their cheering was uncontrolled and enormous. She now realised that the fans weren't going to be behind her in this. Whoever was in the ring had won their hearts and minds, and by the description the booker had given her, it was pretty fair to assume he was a good wrestler. Would she be good enough to win? She hoped so. If nothing else, she wanted to hold her own against him. Humiliation was a bad colour on her, yet she seemed to be wearing it so much recently.

_Get a grip Riley! _She demanded of herself_. You're parents are two of the greatest wrestlers ever in the business. There is nobody like you, nobody as good. If you can't go out there and kick this guy's ass, then no-one can!_

Drawing strength from herself and her limitless confidence, Riley positioned herself directly behind the curtain as the announcer spoke again. She was ready for this. She'd been born for it. Whoever was out there had better be ready to bring it.

"_And now, in our final match of the evening scheduled for one fall, I present to you the opponent. From right here in California…"_

The crowed cheered as her music was cued at the desk behind her. Prince's shrill wail echoed out in the arena and the beat kicked in. Riley couldn't help but smile. Trust Melody to pick _'Gett Off' _as her entrance theme. Praying to what she didn't know, but Riley slipped through the curtains, right into a wall of voices.

"_She'll be your mistress tonight, give it up for Dita!"_

Frozen at the top of the ramp, Riley stared into countless faces, the sound of their collective voices echoing in her head. Some where cheering, some booing and wolf whistling, whilst others demanded to see her breasts. That didn't matter, and Riley had to suppress the grin that threatened to split her face in two.

Remembering she was now a dominatrix, she acted as such, placing one hand on her hip and cracking the riding crop at her side. A section of the crowd, mostly men, broke into cheers as she started to head down the ramp. She'd seen her parents and their friends do this dozens of times. Now it was her time. Walking like she owned the arena, Riley swung her hips for all she was worth, cracking the whip at every opportunity.

Before she knew it, she was at the ring. Heading up the steps, she paused to look at the crowd all around her. They didn't hate her, and it flooded her with renewed confidence. Once they'd seen her in action, Riley knew they'd love her.

Making her way to the centre of the ropes, she placed the riding crop between her teeth for effect. Using the bottom rope as a spring broad, she launched herself into wide legged splits on the ring apron that would make Melina jealous.

The crowd went wild for the move as Riley eased herself beneath the bottom rope, leaving it till the last possible second to pull her legs back together. Now on all fours, she seductively crawled to the centre of the ring before standing up again, once more cracking the whip in the direction of the crowd.

The announcer looked pleased with her entrance as he raised the microphone to his mouth once more, 'Gett Off' now faded into nothing. "And please welcome Dita's opponent. He's been in this ring kicking ass and taking names all night. He is your hometown hero, give it up for _Desperado_!"

For the first time, Riley noticed her opponent. He stood in the corner of the ring, watching her across the ring. His body was long, being easily over six feet tall. He was made up of hard, lean muscle from his wide shoulders to the washboard abs. He wore totally black wrestling tights and thigh high boots that reminded Riley of the kind people wore during martial arts competitions. His wrists were taped, and elbows covered with pads. Lifting her gaze to his face, Riley couldn't hide her surprise.

His entire head was covered by a mask, the kind luchadors normally wore. It was black with a gothic white cross pattern, and had the eyes and mouth cut out to the bare minimum. His eyes were a deep sea blue and his mouth the most sensuous Riley had ever seen. She now understood why so many women were screaming. Although she couldn't see his face, he gave off the vibe that he was gorgeous. He oozed sex appeal, and Riley found herself wondering what he looked like beneath the mask.

His wide and full pink lips, that protected a set of perfect white teeth, were twisted into a smirk, and Riley realised from the way he was shaking that he was laughing at her. And he was doing a very poor job of hiding it.

Anger flared through every inch of her. So he thought the idea of wrestling her funny, did he? Did he assume like most others that because she was a girl she'd be an easy victory? Well she vowed that he would pay for the arrogance, and would come face to face to Riley Kendall Orton, albeit in a Dita disguise. Throwing her whip outside of the ring, the announcer was quickly replaced by the referee who called for the bell.

The clanging sound rang in Riley's ears, and it was the last thing she remembered before the blurry image of Desperado racing toward her filled her vision.

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

* * *

**_A/N_: And now you can review :)**


	11. Party For Two: Touch of My Hand

**A/N****: Update. Another new chapter for your reading pleasure. Please read and review! Lyrics are taken without permission from the song '**_**Touch of my Hand**_**' by Britney Spears. I disclaim!**

**Fair warning, this chapter contains some mild sexual content. Nothing OTT or overtly graphic, but if it's not your thing please skip this one.**

**Finally, this chapter is dedicated to V_. _Thanks to _grleviathan, Coop, Shawn, jensengirl, recco101 _and V for reviewing_. _Shout out to _LegendKiller040180_, thanks for reviewing. You guys rock. Again, please R&R! **

* * *

Riley had been prepared for a lot coming to the arena tonight, but apparently not for Desperado. She hadn't counted on him being so technically able, not to mention _fast_! He moved across the ring in a blur, three short strides and he was upon her, ready to dash her against the turnbuckles. Adrenaline exploded through Riley's veins, and her synapses fired and reflexes worked to their maximum. Clearly Desperado was fast, but _she_ was _faster_. Riley managed to side step the running form of Desperado at the last possible second. Being a great deal smaller than him allowed her to nip to the side, avoiding the crushing clothesline that was being aimed for her chest.

However, she wasn't one to just settle for dodging the attack of an opponent. Instead, she pivoted on the foot that lead her dodge, spinning around to face the back of her opponent. He had no idea what had happened, and she pounced. Snapping her arms firmly around his waist, Riley felt the burn in her thighs and lower back as she hoisted him upward, planting Desperado down onto the back of his neck and head in a swift German Suplex.

Releasing the hold, she quickly rolled out of arm's reach, standing back to her feet. One of the first things she'd ever learned in wrestling practice was to ensure that no matter how good the move was, you never stayed close enough to receive a counter or a retaliation. Desperado wasn't moving as quickly, clearly caught off guard by her sudden move and subsequent attack. Shaking the cobwebs away, he slowly got back to his own feet, backing away wearily into the corner.

Resisting the urge to smile, Riley carefully began to circle around the ring, the distance between her and Desperado staying the same as he moved as well. She couldn't see his face, but Riley guessed he was currently re-evaluating his strategies, and that made her feel good. It was always the same whenever she faced a man in the ring. They always dismissed her due to her size and relative strength, and the fact she was a girl. It was always her opponent's downfall. Tough girls came in small packages, and she would be no push over. Far from it, in fact, she would bet money on knowing more about wrestling than most of the people who had already tried-out today put together. And if Desperado was the best the officials had seen all day, she was definitely going to turn their world on it's head.

Part of her wanted to remove the disguise and show this crowd who she was. Riley knew they wouldn't be so quick to boo her and cheer Desperado if they knew she was Riley Orton. And if they realised who her father was, they certainly wouldn't be screaming to see what was beneath her hot pants. It repulsed her, but that very same repulsion fuelled her.

Riley knew she'd chosen the disguise not simply to hide from her father and potential discovery. It was more than that, because she wanted to prove to him that she could do this alone. That she could become a wrestler on her own merit and not because of her last name. If she could just make it through tonight, Riley knew she could earn herself a developmental contract and her father would respect her so much for doing it all alone. What her mother would think was of no concern to her. She could say what she liked, but Riley was determined to be with her father and wrestle alongside him.

And if she was going to achieve that, she'd better start working.

Stepping forward, Desperado beat Riley to it and pulled her into a collar-and-elbow tie up. His superior strength and height now put Riley in an awkward position. It wasn't too much trouble for him to take control of the hold, and little to no effort to force her back into the corner. With her arms held, Riley couldn't defend against the pressure Desperado forced on her, the strain pooling in her shoulders and neck. It took the referee's firm insistence to break the hold, which her opponent only did grudgingly.

Lifting his hands in supplication, Desperado backed away from Riley, and she immediately leapt out of the corner, catching him by surprise in a Lou Thesz style press. Well she wasn't the one be counted, was she? Why not capitalise on the moment and use it to take her opponent down? After all it wasn't just a superior physique that won the match. Her brains were more than a match for Desperado's deliciously firm muscles any day. And as an added bonus, the repeated smacking of her opponents head would work some feeling back into her arms and shoulders.

With Desperado forced down onto the mat and a murmur of female boos all around, Riley straddled his waist, landing stiff elbow shots to his shoulders and head. He was down and she had to make the most of her advantage. Desperado seemed to realise this, and quickly raised his arms to cover and protect his head. Soon he began blocking the elbow shots. Fighting her off, Desperado shoved Riley to the side, sending her sprawling into the air and down on her side. Grunting with the impact, she felt her anger simmer as the crowd cheered for her opponent. Why were they cheering for this goon? So he was probably a sex god beneath his mask, that wasn't the point! Where was the female solidarity when you needed it?

Determined to prove she was the better wrestler, Riley vowed to beat her opponent in style and tried to come up with a creative way to take him back down to the mat. Just as she formulated a plan to do just that, she paid for her hesitation with a running knee lift to her torso from her opponent. With the air forced out of her lungs, the pain in her ribs barely registered in her head and Riley sank to her knees. No sooner had they touched the canvas did Desperado have her by the hair, or more accurately, by the wig.

Gritting her teeth, Riley felt the dozen ties and clips pull at her scalp beneath it as he tugged on the wig and she wasn't sure whether or not she was pleased it had stayed attached to her head. Forced to get to her feet to relieve the pressure, Riley found herself the victim of a scoop-slam delivered at break-neck speed. Perhaps staying down would have been a better option.

Wincing as her back crashed against the mat, she felt a foreign weight being pressed down on her, her far leg being pulled upwards as Desperado attempted to score an early pin fall.

Kicking her leg free of his grip and thereby disrupting the count, Riley latched her legs around his neck, squeezing her thighs in a head scissors manoeuvre. It was a quick reversal, and gave her time to get her breath back after the slam.

Desperado had other ideas, and with a little concerted effort forced Riley's legs apart, freeing his neck and throat. Grabbing her ankles and trapping them beneath his arms, he placed his feet just beneath her butt and fell backward. Using his downward momentum to bring Riley up, she found herself catapulted toward the ropes. With no way to stop herself, her chest and neck bounced off the ropes, cutting angry red marks onto exposed her skin. Coughing because of the brief but biting pressure on her neck, Riley staggered backwards, only to be planted face first into the mat again by Desperado performing a bulldog.

Rolling onto her back, Riley's chest heaved up and down as pain throbbed in her face and neck. Above her, she could see the silhouette of Desperado posing for the crowd, the dull roar of their cheers filling the space completely. He stepped out of Riley's vision, and she was grateful. Just looking at him now made her angry. He wasn't supposed to be this good; or rather she was supposed to be better. The crowd's near hilarity grated on her nerves, and she couldn't care less what he was doing and how he was posing in order to wind them up. What was he doing to get them to cheer so loudly, anyway?

The throbbing in her head was starting to ease, and Riley began to think about getting to her feet. However the lull in action was quickly over as the reason for the crowd's building cheers became evident. Desperado flew back into her sight as he landed a picture perfect Moonsault from the top rope directly onto her body. Riley couldn't help but yell at the pain of having a six foot plus man landing hard on her from the top rope. If the flare of agony in her chest was anything to go by, Riley seriously considered a bruised, potentially broken rib after that move.

His hands were on her leg again, hooking it, and she vaguely realised through the pain that the referee had begun the count against her. For a moment, she considered allowing herself to get pinned. Did it really matter now that she win the try out? She was already hurting, and she wouldn't be able to offer much of a fight now. It would only become an exercise in cruelty to herself to continue. The laughing face of the Booker flashed through he mind, and she realised that perhaps she'd been wrong to dismiss his warnings so readily. He'd smugly informed her that this Desperado dude was good, and she hadn't taken him seriously, and that was clearly a mistake. Now her chest hurt with every breath, and she felt beaten after barely ten minutes. Perhaps giving up was the best option, and she could still leave the arena under her own power that way. Maybe even a little dignity, if she were that lucky.

Even as she considered giving in, something kicked into life inside her. Perhaps her inherited Orton fire sparked, or her mother's fiery defiance flooded her brain. Whatever it was, Riley found herself issuing a mental command to herself to man up. Just as the referee's hand hovered for the third and final count, Riley's shoulder shot up from the canvas like it had scalded her. She was Riley Orton _dammit_, fourth generation superstar! And there was no way in hell she was about to be beaten by some idiot in a mask.

Using the new rush to push Desperado off her, Riley staggered to her legs. Desperado was just sitting up in front of her, and she immediately launched into a dropkick against his back.

Desperado grunted with the impact, his entire body forced to bend forward. Riley landed a little harder back on the mat that she would have liked. Rolling away to the corner, she now had to use the ropes to get back to her feet. It was difficult, but she managed it as much grace as she could. Across the ring, her opponent watched her every move, eyes glittering with amused disdain. He still found this funny, Riley realised, and obviously thought he'd have this entire debacle won in a matter of moments. And to just add injury to insult, he took a measured step toward Riley and proceeded to trace a woman's hourglass figure in the air before him. Once he was finished, he made obvious and vulgar thrusting motions with his hips and pointed at Riley. The crowd went wild.

Anger tautened to breaking point inside Riley. How dare he be such a sexist pig! And what scum of the earth people where these to cheer him for it? This business was about respect for its female talent now. The days of pure T and A were so long gone they were a distant memory. Women were sexy and desirable, but first and foremost serious competitors. And this pitiful excuse for a man was spitting on Riley and every woman who came before her by behaving in such a borderline misogynistic manner.

Pushing the pain out of her head, Riley took a breath. There was no point in allowing it to consume her as it would do little good. Not that she needed her opponent to know that. Feigning soreness in her side, she waited a moment for him to become interested before throwing herself at Desperado, pumped full of bile and righteous anger. Perhaps Dita the Dominatrix wasn't going to just be a character tonight after all. It was time to give a twenty minute lesson on how to make someone like Desperado her bitch.

_

* * *

_

It was obvious now that Riley was now becoming noted for her absence. Groups of friends and well-wishers at the club turned to one another, bewildered and wondering where the birthday girl was hiding. Most remembered seeing at some point early on in the evening, but they were all at a loss to explain her whereabouts now.

Just as Trish was becoming aware of the discussion regarding her daughter, the DJ's voice cut over the crowd and prevented her from understanding what the talking referred to. She had spent far too much time in the corner nursing a glass of whiskey feeling sorry for herself to notice Riley's absence.

"Alright people," he began, "it's time for the first of the birthday gifts. Riley's best friend Melody has prepared a show the likes of which you have never seen before. So how about we get the birthday girl up here to enjoy her present up close and personal?"

The crowed cheered, and the DJ grinned, already imagining the sordid delights of Melody and Riley together. His booth was situated above and slightly to the left of the main stage. At that height, he was out of the direct light of the club lighting fixtures and bathed in semi-shadow. The cover allowed the high heel that Melody had thrown to sail unnoticed in the dark and slap against his head. Shaken by the impact, the DJ turned in the direction of the stage to see Melody glaring from behind the curtain. Making a quick slicing movement across her throat, he more than got the message.

"Uh, anyway. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Melody James!"

The cheers that erupted died away slowly as the lights dimmed and the heavy blue curtains parted to reveal Melody in all her glory. The stage had been scattered with pillows and cushions embroidered with Indian silk in hues of green, gold and fuchsia. Amber lights spilled over the stage, filling it with a rich glow that accented the creamy colour of Melody's flesh.

And there was plenty of it on display.

Lying provocatively over the pillows, her petit yet curvaceous body was draped in several almost sheer scarves in a rainbow of colours. Five were somehow attached to her waist, spilling over and between her thighs, accentuating the colour of her flesh. Another two were hanging over her shoulders, covering her firm breasts that seemed to defy gravity and hold the scarves in place.

She heard the audible gasp of the entire audience and smiled. _Let's see someone think of Riley now. _

Sat on a chair near the front of the stage Lucas gulped aloud, his tongue absent mindedly running over his lips. His jaw had become slack, the beat of his heart pounding in his ears. Desire sparkled like fireworks in his brain and body, centring powerful explosions in the pit of his stomach and lower.

Melody looked truly delicious, her body soft and inviting. The cool, creamy look of her porcelain skin was offset by her luscious black hair and deep blue eyes that looked almost violet in the light. Sexuality radiated off her, and he defied any man to not want to throw her on her back and devour her. Her eyes focused on him, and he was sure he saw her wink.

Music now filled the club again. Lucas didn't recognise the tune, but the sound of strings made it sound eastern in origin, possibly Japanese. It repeated the same notes several times, the succession sounding haunting and innocent all at the once. It seemed to wrap itself around Melody and bring her to life, the music and girl becoming one single expression of sexuality.

Melody sighed. The DJ had finally started to play record she had instructed him to earlier. It had been supposed to coincide with the curtains opening, although it was too late to worry about that now. She had a show to put on, and she had choreographed it to perfection.

_I'm not ashamed of the things that I dream; I found my self flirting with the verge of obscene_. Extending her arms upward, Melody lifted them to above her head, briefly crossing her wrists in a graceful curve, arching her left side so that her hips jutted slightly. _Into the unknown I will be bold. I'm going to places I can be out of control. _Bringing her arms back down to her side again, Melody slowly got to her feet, each move a fluid segue into another, her limbs graceful and posed as she stood.

_I don't want to explain tonight, all the things I tried to hide. _Reaching her arms forward, Melody directed her gaze toward Lucas, holding his stare for a moment. She wasn't sure if anyone else in the club could feel it, but the tension between them was so thick that it almost stifled her. The heavy weight of his lust-filled stare made her shiver with anticipation and excitement. Boys always looked at her in a way that betrayed their wanton desire, but it had never been as powerful as Lucas was now. She realised that he wanted her physically, and she couldn't deny feeling the same way, that she wanted him to have her fiercely, over and over again till she begged him to stop.

She wanted to feel his hard body against her, exploring every inch of his flesh with her mouth and hands and have him a wild, uncaring manner. For once, Melody didn't want to be the level hearted, warm hearted, tough as anything Californian young woman. Just once, she wanted to be an insecure and frightened girl, shyly confident in herself and her own body. More than anything, she wanted to draw Lucas into her and pleasure him so well that he never wanted to be apart from her again.

Deciding to really give him a reason to want her, Melody brought her hands back toward her. The palms and tips of her finger grazed across her breasts before slowly wrapping around the gold scarf that covered her left breast_. I shut myself off from the world so I can draw the blinds, and I'll teach myself to fly.  
_

Melody tugged the scarf softly, and the corner that had been holding against her skin finally came free. _I love myself it's not a sin.._. In a tantalisingly slow move, the scarf tumbled from her body and the crowd took a collective breath …_I can't control what's happening._

Lucas' eyes were drawn to the scarf that danced it's way through the air to the stage where it melted against the floor. _'Cos I jus discovered, imagination's taken over. Another day without a lover... _Dragging his eyes back up Melody's body, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed in what he saw. The other scarf covering her right breast had been wrapped around her body, so that her cleavage was still covered by the sky blue scarf. It didn't make her any less appealing however, especially as Melody now ran her hands down her hips and over her thighs, daring to brush toward the inner thigh and warm heaven he fantasised was waiting for him there. _The more I come to understand the touch of my hand. _

Knowing she had the club in the palm of her hand, Melody moved across the stage, twirling as she moved and grinding her hips to the oriental beat of the song. _The small of my back_. She turned her back to the crowd, running her hands through her hair and lifting it from her back to expose it completely. It was naked and looked soft to touch, the amber light playing over its curves and plains. _The arch of my feet. _

Melody arched herself, performing a languid backward tumble, stretching her long legs and perfect feet. Men murmured their approval and even the women in the audience were spell bound by every considered move that she made. Taking the scarlet scarf that hung at her back, Melody carefully pulled it free from her body, allowing it glide sensuously over her legs and up to her face. It covered it like a veil for a moment, before Melody totally discarded it.

In his seat, Lucas shifted uncomfortably. The hardness between his own legs was now verging on painful. Every move Melody made before him only excited his passion to boiling point. She was more than beautiful; Melody was a goddess to him. She was love and sex and desire made flesh in front of him, and he longed to claim it for himself. Just the way she move her legs apart made a thousand fantasies cry out for attention in his mind, most considering what it would feel like to be between them. Every curve of her skin was pushing him toward lustful insanity, and he wasn't sure how much more of the torturous desire he would be able to withstand.

_Lately I've been noticing the beautiful me._ Now positioned at the steps of the stage, she carefully started to make her way down them, each movement completely in sync with the music. As she reached the bottom step, Melody rand her hands from her throat and down her body to rest on her hips. _I'm all in my skin and I'm not gonna wait. _Taking a scarf in each hand, her fists were bunched with sheer ochre and jade material.

With the softest of pulls, she removed them from her body, allowing them do drop to the ground. _I'm into myself in a most precious way._ Her legs were completely on display now, the remaining scarves floating delicately between her thighs and one wrapped lovingly around her chest. Taking the final step to the floor, Melody snagged one of the scarves that floated between her thighs and pulled it free, wrapping it loosely around her wrist and letting it fall like a trail behind her.

She felt Lucas' eyes drinking her in and she swiftly turned, displaying her back to him. Leaning backwards, her hands touched to the floor as she arched her back into a bridge. Her body was one delicious curve, the perfect lines broken only by the curves of her breast and hips. Lucas found himself gripping the chair he was sat on for dear life. He'd always found a woman's stomach incredibly sexy, and he wanted so badly to run his tongue and lips over Melody's whilst she held herself in that position.

There may as well have been nobody else in the room but Lucas, as Melody kept her attention focused on him. With considerable core strength, she reversed the slow drop into the bridge she'd performed, carefully pulling herself back to standing up straight. Turning over her shoulder, Melody ran her hands down her lower back in order to cup the curves of her bottom. _I don't want to explain tonight all the things I tried to hide_. More specifically, she let her fingers play with the light pink scarf that hung between her legs, covering the cleft of her rear and womanhood at the front.

She toyed with pulling at it, loving the reactions that played across Lucas's face as she did so. Turning to face him, Melody took measured steps toward him again, her feet gracefully pointing the way forward as the rest of her body followed. _I shut myself off from the world so I can draw the blinds… _

Stood within an inch of Lucas, Melody lowered herself to her knees. Placing her hands carefully on Lucas' knees, she gently spread them apart. He resisted her briefly, and she could see why. Fighting off a blush, Melody tried to keep her eyes anywhere other than straining bulge at the front of Lucas' jeans. He wore them baggy, but at such close quarters there was no mistaking in the way the material was ruffled.

Knelt down before Lucas, Melody's body was out of the sight of him and the rest of the club. Her hands carefully played their way down Lucas' legs once more to grip the final two scarves that covered her chest and womanhood. With the softest of pulls, they came free, exposing her body in its entirety _…And I'll teach myself to fly._

Pushing forward, Melody let her head travel up between Lucas' thighs as her body followed. She moved up over his body, inhaling his masculine scent until they were eye level. Pressing her body flush against his, Melody deliberately pushed her hips forward so that she ground against the hardness between his legs. Lucas bit his lip, more to stop himself from moaning that anything else. _There's a world undefined, in my body and mind. _

Melody carefully pulled one of the scarves she had just removed from her side, as the club waited in baited breath to see what she would do next_. I won't be left behind_. The garment was a sheer purple, and she carefully draped it over Lucas' face like a veil. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he inhaled, taking in the female scent of Melody in all its sweetness. His blue eyes fell open again, and he saw through the purple haze that Melody's face was less than an inch from his. Her eyes with heavy with desire, the lids half closed in a way that scent arousal tingling through every inch of his body. _I'm already here._

Not realising he had done it, Lucas lifted his hands so that they were placed on Melody's hips. _'Cos I jus discovered, imagination's taken over. _She in turn closed the small gap between them. _Another day without a lover. The more I come to understand… _Suddenly, Lucas felt the warmth of her lips through the scarf pressed against his own. The softness of her hand pressed against his chest warmed him to the core in a way he'd never know before. …_the touch of my hand._ Explosions were set off in his mind, his body tensing to a peak he'd never reached until now. She simply touched her lips against his, and whilst the scarf prevented him from kissing her truly, it was easily the most erotic moment of his entire life.

Lost to a haze of pleasure, Lucas barely registered the lights filling the club once more as the song had ended. There was a heavy pause, as Melody pulled her mouth back from his, looking longingly into his eyes, his hands falling limply to his side. The sound of thunder filled his ears and he realised that everyone was clapping. Melody peeled herself off Lucas, taking a complete step back. He felt empty now that she was no longer against his body, and desperately wanted to pull her back to his chest again. Even if the situation would allow it, his body felt gloriously numb, as though he'd had the most satisfying sex ever. No girl had ever made him feel this sated before, and they'd barely come into contact at all.

N1ow that he could see a little more clearly, Lucas could see that Melody wasn't naked beneath the scarves as he'd thought. She was wearing an incredibly tight and small flesh coloured bikini. It was so perfect in mimicking Melody's skin tone that he wouldn't have noticed it save for the occasional twinkle of diamantes that were encrusted in places the chest and hips.

Melody curtseyed for a moment, going through the motions of taking in the applause. She'd forgotten everyone else present for a moment, and what she'd even done her routine for. In reality, her heart was pounding in her chest and her body ached with pleasure. Being that intimate with Lucas without actually doing much at all had left her feeling more alive that she ever had before. But she'd have to forget that now. The entire performance was for her friend's benefit, to help Riley with her dreams. She couldn't focus on Lucas now, as there was more for her to do to ensure Riley's absence stayed relatively unnoticed for a while longer.

Taking a step back, she turned and headed back up the steps onto the stage as the curtains were pulling closed. Her mind focused on the next phase of her plan, she was powerless against at the magnetic pull of the man she knew was watching her from the floor. Turning back, she threw Lucas a molten look before she regained her senses. Holding his gaze in her own, it was only broken as the curtains closed between them and Melody was lost into a wall of blue.

Everyone in the club started talking at once, their voices full of excitement and in thrall of the young woman and her performance. The people closest to Lucas clapped his shoulders or slapped their hands on his back, telling him how amazing the moment had been or how luck he was to have such a girl dance over and on him. However it was like being under the sea for Lucas, the voices muffled and distant. He couldn't take his eyes off from where Melody had escaped, nor forget the feelings she had brought to life in him.

Carefully pushing his way through the crowd, he walked up toward the stage, taking the steps that were behind the DJ booth. Making sure no-one had followed him, he slipped behind the curtain, intending to find Melody and quench his thirst for her there and then.


	12. Party For Two: Feel Good Time

**_A/N: Update, another chapter for your reading pleasure. Warning, this chapter contains moderate sexual content._**

_**This chapter and the next were originally all going to be one, but it was too big so I've had to split it. Hopefully I'll have the next part posted in a few days. This chapter is for theeAllure as she has been helping me sort through ideas for the story. **_

_**As ever, I disclaim. Please read and REVIEW!**_

* * *

Riley flailed her arms, but in vain. Stuck in the centre of the ring, with Desperado's arm latched tightly across her throat meant the end was well and truly in sight. She was laying on her side, leaning backwards, slightly against her opponent's chest who lay at a diagonal angle to her. The pressure on Riley's wind pipe was restricting air flow into her body, and now little black spots were beginning to dance before her eyes. If she moved them too quickly, the black dots moulded together and became surrounded in gold. It seemed pretty, at least to Riley's oxygen starved brain, anyway.

The match had gone back and forth for the past fifteen minutes. They'd traded offence, defended against each other's moves and pulled out a few spectacular counters. Riley wasn't ashamed to admit that Desperado was damn good, probably better than she was. Regardless, the match they were putting on belonged on a stage like Monday Night RAW, not some dusty training facility in the butthole end of Los Angeles. Every time she bounced off the ropes, she risked a glance down to the ringside seats where several agents and talent officials were sat, taking notes. She hoped to god they liked what they were seeing. Riley was pulling her out her A game in all this, and she was certain Desperado was too. Whoever was the better wrestler, they were definitely pushing each other to their limits.

Unfortunately, it seemed Riley had reached hers sooner than Desperado. She'd landed a few good hits and throws, but his hurt just that little bit more. He was bigger and stronger than her, and incredibly agile considering. Just blocking his attacks hurt her, and was forcing Riley to expend precious energy.

One lazy block of an elbow strike had allowed Desperado to catch her in a Sleeper Hold, and he'd forced her down onto the canvas. And after working so hard to give as good as she got, Riley didn't have enough left to power out of the move.

Especially as Desperado continued to force pressure down on her back, clearly enjoying his impending victory. And still, Riley refused to submit. She would not tap out to him. Instead she settled for a weak attempted at pulling the arm from around her neck, ignoring the dull thud of her blood in her ears. Annoying perhaps, but at least it blocked out the sounds coming from the crowd all around her.

She honestly couldn't fathom why they hadn't supported her right from the opening bell. Part of her knew if she'd come out dressed as herself, Riley Kendall Orton they'd be eating out of the palm of her hand. But that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to do this herself and prove she belonged in the WWE. And of course, had she even tried to debut as her father's daughter, she would never have even made it into the building. However, it was apparently a moot point now. This match was over, and her stubborn defiance to submit only meant she'd be spared the indignity of tapping out. She'd probably black out soon enough and it would be over anyway.

"For the love of god girl," came a devastatingly sexy voice in her ear. It was deep and filled Riley's senses like molten chocolate. Why couldn't he have sounded nerdy, or gay or something? No, she just _had_ to lose to the man who could make a girl quiver just my saying her name. _Dammit_. "Just tap already. You're not proving anything by hanging on. I don't want crushing your pretty little neck to be on my conscious when I make it to the regionals."

"…in your…dreams…" Riley choked, and earned herself a vicious tug across her throat. Did he think she was stupid? Of course Riley wasn't just going to tap out. Apart from her own desire to win, she wasn't about to make it easy on him.

"Fine. Be stubborn." he huffed, his breath warm and refreshingly mint scented caressed her cheek. "I'll just have to choke you out. Nice hot pants, by the way. I am so copping a feel when you're out."

Feeling was deserting her limbs, and Riley felt unconsciousness sliding over her body like a comforter. Fighting off the feeling, she vowed to try once more to break free or be put to sleep trying. There was no way this sexy voiced pervert was putting his hands _anywhere_ on her now!

Placing her feet as firmly as she could on the mat, she used them to support her as she arched her back. It left her head at an awkward angle, but it forced Desperado to lift his arms up anyway. With just that extra bit of wiggle room, Riley bent her arms backwards, using her palms flush against the mat to support her fully. Now her body was in a complete bridge, it was easy for Riley to roll her head out of the vice of Desperado's arm and free herself of the sleeper hold.

Surprisingly, the crowd grudgingly applauded her resourcefulness, and Riley refused to allow their good will to go to waste. Forcing herself upright, she pivoted on her foot, bringing her right leg around in a half circle. It was the kind of _Chick Kick_ her mother delivered back in the day, and Riley couldn't deny the ultimate satisfaction it gave her to slam her foot into the temple of her opponent, sending him sprawling to the mat and clutching at the side of her head.

"Cop a feel of that!"

Riley sank onto all fours, much out of exhaustion as design. She could breathe now, but the oxygen flowing into her limbs only reminded her how much she was aching. She needed to end this, and end it now.

The crowd seemed to be waking from their Desperado thrall, and were beginning to chant her name. The chants came from restricted pockets within the crowd, but they were growing. Maybe they were realising this girl was more than just victim. She was real opposition, and the thought warmed Riley.

She lowered her body to the matt, resting her weight on her stomach and the knuckles of her balled up fists. One or two people in the crowd must have recognised what she was doing, if the excited cheering was anything to judge by. Riley had seen her father adopt this pose a hundred times, and couldn't deny the thrill it gave her to literally stalk her opponent. Desperado had his back to her, slowly getting back to his feet whilst furiously rubbing at his temple. The kick had delivered better than she'd anticipated, and he wasn't as quick getting back from that as he had been the rest of her offence. Well, if that kick slowed him down, she couldn't wait to see how he would deal with what came next.

Riley knew her timing would have to be flawless. One out of sync move would mean Desperado being able to counter her and then it would be over, for sure. She didn't have it in her to fight him anymore. She was beaten, and she knew it. But if Riley Orton could steal the victory, then damn straight she would. Feeling her heart pound in her chest, excitement thick in her veins. She waited, senses straining with effort as tried to feel her opponent across the ring. Her breath slowed, and the world fell away around her. All Riley could process of Desperado in front of her, who was taking an entire age to turn around.

_Dita, Dita, Dita!_

With the raised voices of the crowd ringing in her ears, Riley waited until Desperado had turned almost halfway round. As soon as she saw the profile of his face, she exploded into action. The dregs of her adrenaline fuelled her, and Riley flew at him. As he completed his turn, she could see his beautiful sea blue eyes widen in surprise. Revelling in the satisfied smirk that curved her mouth, Riley twisted and caught his head in the hook of her arm. With Desperado's chin firmly pressed against her shoulder, she dropped him to the canvas with an _RKO_ that would make her father weep with jealousy.

The crowd came alive with cheers, more for the move than anything else. Nobody present knew the significance of the finisher to the girl who performed it, but that didn't matter to Riley. They probably assumed she was a life long wrestling fan, and was using a move she knew she could put her opponent away with. In realist, Riley was using the finisher her father had innovated with great effect. His _RKO's_ had won World Championship matches, and now it was about to win her a place at the regional try outs.

With a shy smile, she rolled on top of the prone form of Desperado, her back leaning against his chest. Riley pretended not to be moved by the feeling of the hard, lean muscle of Desperado's torso against her back. Focusing, she grabbed the first leg she could reach, and hooked the inside one as a result. The tension she'd been holding onto now rushed out of her body, like a tide of water racing away from the shore as the referee's hand hit the three count.

"_Ladies and gentleman, here is your winner…Mistress Dita!"_

It took a few seconds for Riley to process what the announcer had just said. Finally, the world came crashing back to her as she realised what she had just achieved. Riley had done it. She'd beaten Desperado, and in doing so earned her place at the Regional Try Outs. Her entrance music played in celebration, to mark her victory, and to her embarrassment Riley couldn't even get to her feet to acknowledge it. Beaten, bruised and exhausted, she crawled on her hands and knees to the ropes and used them as support. Her spine felt nonexistent, and exhaustion claimed her. Leaning on the bottom one, she grinned and was grateful as the referee lifted her arm in victory.

Blinking back tears, Riley sighed. She'd done it. Done what no-one thought she could; not her mother, not her friends, not the booker and certainly not her opponent. No-one thought she could achieve this. And not only had she done it, but she'd done it with the crowd saying her name. Success was the best form of revenge, and she only wished she could she could rub it in everyone's face.

Rolling beneath the bottom rope, Riley staggered alongside the ring, tagging as many outstretched hands that she could reach. People seemed genuinely pleased for her, congratulating her and asking for a picture or an autography. As much as it bothered her, Riley could not afford to spend any time soaking in the moment. She had to get back to her party, and she was already beginning to worry about what had happened in her absence.

A low pitched moan from the ring made Riley stop, and cast a quickly glance back from the bottom of the ring. Realising what had happened, she turned around fully to see Desperado rolling onto his front, apparently back from his moments away in _RKO land_. It apparently took a few seconds for everything to fall into place in his head. Finally it registered to Desperado that he'd lost, and Riley chuckled as she saw his head fall into his hands. He raised it briefly, shooting her a murderous look and she grinned in response. Despite the screaming agony of her shoulders, Riley blew him a kiss and the crowd went wild because of it. Riley enjoyed holding his gaze for a moment, before turning on her heel and limping back up the ramp with as much dignity as she could muster.

_That's right Desperado. Me, the girl, beat your ass! And now, the regional try out match is mine, mine, totally all mine! Daddy is gonna be so proud!_

_

* * *

_

Pushing her way through curtains and ropes securing the lighting fixtures, Melody finally stumbled through the doorway that led backstage to the dressing rooms. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps and she truly wondered if she was suffering some kind of heart failure.

Blindly navigating the short corridors at the rear of the stage, she found the one she was looking for. Taking a sharp left turn into the tiny excuse for a dressing room, she slipped inside and pushed the door behind her. The cracked blue door hit the doorframe, but wasn't entirely closed, not that it bothered Melody. Her fingers searched for the light switch against the mirror, and swore under her breath when her spasmodic slaps failed to locate it.

Finally, the hard plastic brushed against her thumb, and she clicked it down. The light bulbs that surrounded the wall length mirror all flickered on simultaneously, flooding the dressing room in unnatural light.

Looking at her reflection, Melody had to put her hands on the dressing table to steady herself. Her skin had a flushed glow, a colour that she knew highlighted her sexual arousal. A thin sheen of sweat was obvious across her breasts and in the occasional bead across her forehead and cheeks. Her fringe was damp and stuck against her forehead, and the makeup around her eyes had started to smudge slightly. Try as she might, Melody couldn't seem to get her breath back.

And to top it off, her pupils were dilated to bursting point. All thanks to Lucas and the effect he had on her. Her body was so alive with sexual energy, Melody wasn't sure if she'd come down for a month yet. Not without a release, anyway.

Dipping down to the mini fridge next to her, she snatched out a bottle of cold water, and began to roll the plastic over her face, down her chest and stomach. It did little to cool the fires burning beneath her skin. Somehow she knew only Lucas could do that.

_No! Do not think of him. You've got a friend who needs your help, so get it together!_

Galvanized by her own scolding, Melody tossed the water bottle, not caring to see where it landed. Facing the mirror, she knew this was no time to be shy and immediately attacked her clothing. Reaching around her back, she unfastened the clasp that kept the almost sheer, flesh colour bikini top tight around her chest. Sliding the straps down over her shoulders, she also slipped out of the heels that were making her claves ache. God only knew how strippers paraded around in these night after night and managed to look sexy and not be crippled in the process.

Hooking her thumbs into the bikini bottoms, she didn't have a second thought about tugging them down, and bent over slightly to slide them over her feet. In doing so, she failed to notice the door open slightly behind her, nor see Lucas slide silently inside and push it closed behind him. In fact, it was only the faint click as the door closed properly that alerted Melody to another's presence.

She immediately straightened and saw Lucas's reflection before her. Without thinking, she turned around to face him properly, not even caring that her body was totally on display. The overpowering sensation of having Lucas so close to her forced away any self conscious thoughts of being naked. How could he do that to her? What was it about him that caused her to abandon rational thinking and leave her submerged in him totally?

It was his total and utter masculinity, and she knew it to be true in a heartbeat. Other boys like Jared had appealed to her before, even gotten her a little crazy for them. But everyone else paled in comparison to what burned her now. Everything about Lucas appealed to her, from his sparkling blue eyes and the hard, square jaw line to the bulging muscles straining beneath the shirt he wore. His scent was intoxicating and brought the hedonistic side of Melody out easily. Every part of Lucas that was male teased and enticed everything that was female about her. For the first time in her life, she felt powerless against the charms of another, and really wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

The sexual tension was stifling. It seemed to radiate off their bodies, mingling in the air between them and making it unbearably hot to be in that room. The pressure was beyond intense, and their eyes said things that neither could say out loud. They expressed thoughts and feelings that betrayed a deep longing for the other, a passion the likes of which neither had felt before but did not want to deny. Melody wanted Lucas, and he her. And it seemed that they were about to get their wish.

Standing opposite Melody, Lucas drank in the sight of her devoid of clothes. He wanted to capture this moment in his mind forever, to hold the sight of her and her femininity. Her body was creamy white and a collection of curves and lines that drove him beyond the point of reason. God how he wanted her, to feel those sweet curves pressed against himself, to be inside her and make her cry out his name in unbridled pleasure. He wanted to taste her lips and every inch of that delicious body, to devour her like she was his own private banquet.

The way her flat stomach curved at her sides to meet her hips was probably the most arousing sight he'd ever seen. She was obviously slight in build, but not some anorexic stick insect. Her breasts were pert and round, more than enough for any man to content with. And her ass, god save him, was high and tight in a way he'd never thought possible. She really was perfection. Her body could excite and arouse him forever. He knew he'd never get bored of exploring every part of her, and would happily spend the rest of his life doing so.

Without meaning to, Lucas found himself crossing the room so he was stood opposite it. He stood there for a moment, taking in her scent that was heightened by arousal. She smelled just as good as she looked; better if that were at all possible. Lucas took his hands to her, and felt the silk of her skin beneath his palms. He cupped her hips in his hands and gently lifted her off her feet. Melody made no effort to resist him, silently overpowered by the feeling of his hands on her bare skin. Even if it did bother her, she couldn't at this moment ever imagine denying Lucas anything.

Displaying a gentleness that warmed her to the core, Melody looked nervously into Lucas' eyes as he placed her on the table. Sat above her ground, her legs hung in the ether between the table and the floor, Lucas' broad frame between her and the rest of the room.

Softly, Lucas placed his hands on her knees, and carefully parted her legs. Melody bit down on her bottom lip as she allowed her legs to be spread. Lucas immediately filled the space between them, the denim of his designer jeans an altogether not unpleasant sensation against her inner thighs. Lucas sighed softly, his hands travelling the length of Melody's body from her knees to neck, the tips of his fingers barely skimming her flesh.

He cupped her face in his hands, carefully turning her head from side to side, as though he were inspecting her. Melody allowed her head to turn, being supported by Lucas's massive hands.

Seemingly satisfied by what he saw, Lucas leaned forward and planted a line of feather light kisses down Melody's jaw to her throat. His hands caressed their way down her shoulders and arms as his lips continued to seek out and taste her neck. Melody stifled a moan, her head rolling back as she exposed her throat to Lucas without question. She never wanted this feeling to end, his lips kissing her throat, his tongue tasting the pulse in her neck. And just when she thought she might moan aloud, she was shocked into silence, as she felt his hands close over her breasts.

He was gentle in his attention, carefully feeling the weight in his hands, fingers and thumbs exploring the valleys and plains of her breasts. Every time his thumbs whispered across the rose red peaks, Melody felt a jolt rush through her body, straightening her spine and adding fuel to the fire ache in the pit of her stomach. The delicious torture broke down the walls of her desire, and she had to bite her lip to stop her from moaning.

Lucas mouth moved down from her neck to her collar done. He kissed and nipped at the flesh, his teeth grazing the skin on her shoulders. His tongue traced a lazy line from her shoulder back to the valley between her breasts. Lucas ran his tongue between them, earning a sharp gasp from Melody. His lips were a ghost on her breasts, creating enough friction so she knew they were there, but not enough to give any real contact. However, the feeling of his hot breath against the taut peaks was enough to make Melody moan. Lucas' mouth edged ever closer, and she could practically feel his tongue teasing her nipple already. Just as Melody was sure he'd take her breast into his mouth, he moved down beneath her chest to kiss her stomach.

That act of teasing sent a shudder down Melody's spine, and she was forced to lean back against the mirror to support herself. The move only served to give Lucas free access to her stomach, which he accepted with relish. His mouth was hot and fevered against her flesh, the teeth nipping and marking the tight skin of her stomach. Lucas traced circles around her navel whilst his hands stroked her inner thighs, bringing Melody closer to a frenzy than she'd ever been before.

Finally, his attentive mouth moved from her stomach to her hip and move to her right knee. Turning her leg gently, he began kissing down her inner thigh, his thumb stroking the other. Melody whimpered, no longer able to bear the teasing mouth. Against her will, she bucked her hips slightly, offering herself openly in a way she'd never done before.

Lucas smiled against her thigh, still continuing to take his time getting to his ultimate goal. Instead, his hands met at the junction of her thighs, and his thumbs ran down the flesh where her hips met her thighs. It was sensitive enough to make Melody moan, her head roll backwards and her eyes joining them. He was close now, so close to the molten silk between her thighs that she felt like crying in frustration.

His mouth hovered above her bare pubic bone, and he sealed his lips against it, revelling in the naked softness. Another rainfall of kisses on her body and Lucas was now only one kiss away from her centre. Melody shivered with anticipation, and Lucas licked his lips in anticipation. Just as his hot breath caressing against her most intimate part made Melody whimper his name, and Lucas lowered his head, letting his lips fall against her womanhood.

Melody thought she would shatter at the feeling, his burning mouth melting against her equally hot flesh. Pleasure exploded inside her and she felt like screaming because of it. She probably would have, had the door had not flung open at that very moment.

"Riley, are you back here?…Jesus Christ!" Trish Orton's embarrassed squeal brought Melody and Lucas back to earth with heart stopping force. One look at what Lucas was doing, and Trish immediately span on her feel, turning away from the therapy-inducing sight she'd just witnessed.

Lucas tore away from Melody's naked body, and she flew off the dressing table, snatching up the bath robe resting on the back of the chair. He backed into the far corner, his lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed with pink as his chest rose and fell in a heavy succession. Even as embarrassed emotions flooded through his head, Lucas still felt himself melt at the taste on his lips. Melody was like ambrosia, and knew he was now lost in her completely. The hard throbbing between his legs echoed the sentiment, and he discreetly as he could, clasped his hands over his crotch to cover his obvious arousal. Funny, he hadn't even noticed it until now. He'd been more enthralled by Melody and her pleasure to realise his own needs.

Flustered, Melody quickly tied the robe around her waist as Trish continued to keep her back to them. "Sorry, sorry…oh god. I…uh…I'm looking for Riley, I didn't mean to interrupt." Melody winced at everything the word implied. "I, uh, what I mean is that, she isn't back here, is she? Do you two know where she is?"

"It's okay Mrs. Orton," Melody admitted in a quiet voice, wanting to put her best friend's mother out of her misery. "You can turn around now."

Almost not wanting to, Trish slowly turned around with her eyes still held in a slight wince, fearful of what she might next be subjected to. Seeing that Melody and Lucas were standing at opposite end of the rooms, her clothed and him looking at his feet, allowed her to sigh with relief. "I was trying to find Riley. I haven't seen her for ages."

"She's here somewhere." The lie was too easily tumbling off Melody's lips, shocking her back to reality. She was supposed to be covering for her friend, not getting nasty with the devastatingly gorgeous Lucas Cena. "I saw her in the crowd during my dance, she's probably dancing somewhere."

Trish's face flushed with colour at the strip tease she'd seen Melody perform. Whilst she was quietly impressed with the control and eroticism Melody was able to portray, she still felt quite sick and having borne witness to it at all. "Ah, right. I'll go check out on the dance floor then."

"I'll help you find her," Melody offered, knowing full well Riley was elsewhere and Trish would be unsuccessful. Still, she could use the opportunity to throw Trish off the scent, not to mention initiate as much damage control as possible. "Just let me put my dress on and…"

"NO!" Trish barked too quickly and too loudly. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably. "That is, I can find her myself. You two just…um…yeah, I'll go find Riley now."

Trish could not get out of the room fast enough, and darted out the door, pulling it closed with a resounding thud behind her. Across from the room, Lucas let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. Having Mrs. O walk in on him getting intimate with Melody was second place only to his mother walking in. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look her in the face. Ever again. And what if she told his mother? Groaning inwardly, that didn't even bear thinking about. He knew how she would react, and it wouldn't be pretty. He'd probably be banned from the opposite sex for the rest of his life, despite the fact he was of age to do whatever with whomever he pleased.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Melody mumbled, grabbing her thong from the pile of clothes she'd left there earlier. She slipped it on beneath her robe, acutely aware of Lucas standing so close to her, even though he was clear across the room. Picking up her bra, she looked at Lucas, holding the garment close to her like a shield. "Um, would you mind turning around?"

Lucas looked momentarily confused, and almost disappointed. Now she was bashful? Her lack of clothing hadn't bothered her when he was kissing her body. But still, he obliged. "Sorry, of course." Spinning on his foot, he faced the opposite wall.

Sure he wasn't about to turn around and sneak a peak, Melody slipped the robe off her shoulders and put her bra on in record time. Grabbing her dress, she pulled it roughly over her legs and tried to grab the zip at her back. However, she couldn't, and she grunted with frustration. "Lucas, could you…I mean I can't…would you zip me up, please?"

It seemed an odd request considering moments ago he was happily revelling in her nakedness. Clearing his throat, he turned around and stepped closer to her. Softly gathering her thick auburn hair, he pushed it over her right shoulder so he had unobstructed access to her back. Even that was beautiful. Placing the flat of one hand against her hip, he pulled the zip upwards slowly, regretting that he was covering her body at all. Once he'd finished, he resisted the notion to take his hands off her back. Melody remained frozen against his touch, and he took it as an invitation to continue touching her. Lifting his hands, he placed them on her shoulders.

Melody immediately flinched and pulled away from him, turning back to face Lucas in the process. Ignoring the look of confused hurt on his face, she brushed her hair with her fingers. "Lucas, I…"

"Melody," he cut her off, his voice thick with something she couldn't identify. Maybe it was desire, or lust. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of Mrs. Orton, but I'm not sorry for wanting you…like that. I've never felt like this before, ever. And I'm hoping that you'll let me take you out, so I can…"

"I'm sorry Lucas," now it was Melody's turn to cut him off, "but I can't do this right now. I have to…have to…" What did she have to do? Why would she even think of resisting Lucas? Moments ago she desperately wanted him in a near primal way. And perhaps that's why she was so anxious now. She'd never lost her control before, not like that. She'd thrown more than caution to the wind because of him, and that was no way to be. She'd even forgotten about Riley and what she was supposed to be doing for her friend. What kind of best friend did that make her? One who was willing to forget a promise in the heat of passion?

Besides, it was almost scary being under Lucas' power like that, to be a slave to desire. And she didn't want to be that vulnerable again anytime soon. God only knew what would happen if she were.

"…I have to find Riley." She muttered. And just like that, Melody brushed past Lucas and out into the hallway to join the club.

Confused, Lucas scratched the back of his head, not sure exactly what had just happened. He considered going after Melody, to try and explain that he didn't just want her for sex. That it was a lot more than yet. Yes, he desired her more than he had any other girl, but that desire came from something deeper, more real. If she'd just give him the chance to show it.

Sighing, he clicked the light off on the mirror and followed where Melody had gone, hoping to find Riley for himself. Right now, he could definitely use the advice his friend could give her.

Of course, he'd have to find her first.


	13. Party For Two: The Best Laid Plans

**_A/N: Update! Another chapter for your reading pleasure. Please read and REVIEW! I disclaim!_**

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The roar of the crowd safely behind her, Riley Orton carefully limped down the corridor, her hand pressed against her lower back for support. Every step she took sent a fresh spike of pain slicing up through her back and into her neck, but even that constant agony couldn't take the stupid grin off her face. It had been there since she stepped behind the curtain, and hadn't gone away yet. It would probably be there for the rest of the night, if not longer. And why shouldn't it? After all, she had plenty to be smiling about.

She'd done it. She'd actually won her try-out against all the odds. And now she was guaranteed a space at the regional matches coming up, meaning a contract with the WWE was within her reach. All she had to do was prepare herself physically and mentally for the next few weeks to be at her best for the next match, and she knew her future was set.

And thinking of that, Riley knew she should really be searching out the ogre that was the booker and organise her space at the try-outs, but she didn't have the time. The night was starting to get away from her, and she was only just within Melody's planned schedule for the evening. She's saved five minutes by ending her match early, but now she was beginning to lose her head start. She'd have to get away from the arena soon to ensure she was back in time to dispel suspicion on her whereabouts.

The cramp now biting into her right leg however seemed to have other ideas. It was so tight, that Riley was forced to stop. She rested her weight against the wall, and massaged her thigh to try and ease the tension there as best she could. It wasn't going to her a great deal in the grand scheme of her body though. Her legs felt like jelly, and there wasn't a part of her back that wasn't hurting. Lowering her chin, she stared at her shoulder that looked to be bruising up a treat. Great. Just what she needed. A huge purple and red bruise right where it was obvious, especially in a strapless dress. Riley knew she'd have to cover the area before she got back to the club, although with what she didn't know.

Pressing her hand gingerly against the shoulder, she tried to rotate the joint. Her breath came out as a sharp hiss when she realised that it wasn't going to happen. It was far too sore. Add swelling to the bruise, she realised. Riley surmised that it had been the backdrop from Desperado which had left her with the problem. Or maybe it had been the suplex. Not that it mattered of course; his handiwork was going to be evident for all to see in the next few hours once the bruise had developed.

Bruised, swelling up and in pain. And why was it so damn hot in the arena? Sweat was running in thick rivulets down her back, and the corset felt too tight around Riley's chest. Stripping the gloves from her arms, Riley tried to fan herself with them, but it was no good. She was still too hot, and stripping was completely out of the question. Her head felt as though it was on fire, and the wig was so tight on her scalp it was making her light-headed. Carefully, she began pulling clips free from the wig until she could take it off entirely. Her thick mane of blonde hair was plastered against her scalp, damp with sweat and squashed beyond recognition. Pulling out the ties that held it flat against her head, she released it from the wrap around her head, running her hand through her locks in an attempt to resurrect it.

The eye mask was itching now, and the knot at the back of Riley's head felt like it was digging into her skull. It had to go, and was the next to be removed. Riley pulled it from her face and massaged her eyes and cheek bones, glad to be free of the restrictions of the covering and felt the blood running back through her face. It may have been a risk exposing her face like that in the arena, but she felt safe enough to take the chance. Luck was on her side tonight, and she had to cool off before she fainted.

Letting her eyes fall closed, Riley exhaled deeply. She was cooling down now, and decided the time was right to get moving again. Eyes open, she inhaled and redoubled her efforts to make it to the parking lot, limping as quickly as her battered body would allow her to.

Stepping away from the wall, she began to limp her way toward the end corridor again, hoping she'd make it through the rest of the night without her bumps and bruises incapacitating her fully. Maybe if she could just stick the corners of the club, hiding the shadows, she could get away with being beaten up. She'd have to cover her shoulder, but she would worry about that later. Right now, she had to get to car park and she was moving too slowly for her liking.

Just as she thought she'd never get there, mercifully the end of the hall came into sight, and the double doors that led to the parking bay beyond it. Grinning, Riley halted as a sound from behind her startled her to the point that she squeaked out loud in surprise.

"Hey! You! Don't you dare move another muscle!"

Turning around slowly, Riley winced as Desperado powered up the corridor after her, legs pumping as he covered the distance between them with ease. It irked her that he could run down a corridor apparently unscathed quickly, whereas it had taken her almost ten minutes.

What was more alarming was Desperado's emotional state. Whilst he was still wearing his mask, the negative anger was pounding off him so violently so, that Riley was forced to back up slightly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she told herself to cover her face up before he got too close, but she wasn't fast enough. Coming to a skidding halt in front of her, Desperado towered over Riley as he ripped the mask from his face. Riley drew in a loud breath, her mouth slightly open in what could only be described as awe.

Despite the fact his features were twisted into an angry grimace, this man was easily the most attractive male she had ever seen. His hair was a mess of short, blonde spikes. It was cropped close to his head, and Riley pictured him belonging to the military and him having one of their patented cuts. His eyebrows were shaped to perfection, almost as though they had been painted onto his forehead. Beneath them, those sea blue eyes seemed to shimmer with emotion, and Riley imagined anyone could easily end up adrift in them. His nose was perfect for his face, straight and just the right width to create balance between his impossibly defined cheek bones.

Riley's eyes glanced at his mouth, and found herself holding back a moan. It was the most sensual mouth she'd ever seen. Wide with soft pink lips, the bottom was slightly fuller than the top, giving the impression of a permanent pout. As he flicked his tongue over them, he exposed the rows of perfect, white teeth.

The man was a veritable Adonis and Riley wondered how she was managing to keep herself from falling over. And even as she felt herself flush with attraction, there was something about his face and those gorgeous features that were familiar to her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but the ghost of recognition was firmly planted in her mind.

If Desperado recognised her in turn, he certainly didn't show it. His hands shot out from the sides, gripping Riley by the upper arms. She was shocked by the speed and force with which he grabbed her. He wasn't holding her tight enough to hurt her, but his hands were firm clamps around her arms all the same.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you just did?" He snarled between clenched teeth. His eyes searched hers with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. And yet, even when he was angry, he was still heart-stoppingly handsome.

Overcome with silence, Riley shook her head by way of answer as much as she was trying to clear her head from this daze he'd left her in. She was never fazed by attractive men at all. Even when she had been dating Jeremy in the early days, she'd never been lost for words. It felt strange now to be lost in the eyes of the person who'd only just been slapping her around the ring moments before.

"In the ring." He explained, narrowing his eyes, clearly annoyed at her apparently stupidity and his subsequent need to explain himself. "Do you know what you've done me?"

His aggression was cutting through Riley's desire, bringing out her automatic stubborn defences. "You mean apart from beating you and scoring myself a try out? No not really." Part of her thought to tell him to let go of her arms, but strangely she didn't want him to. She liked the feeling of his large hands on her, as loathe as she was to admit it.

"You stupid little girl," he spat, eyes raking over her body before focusing on her face again. "You have ruined my entire future! Stupid luck let you win that match. I know it, you know it, and every single person out there knows it. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Excuse me?" Riley heard the tone of her voice rising, but she was incensed regardless.

"Well it's true," he growled, "coming out to the ring like a stripper, shaking your ass and making a show of yourself. You can't possibly be serious about being a wrestler, you're just in it for the fame and the glamour, and I know it. Just like every other two-bit whore the industry seems to invite, but you can't fool me, oh no. Bitches like you stop the hard-working, dedicated students of the game like me from getting the place they deserve in the company! So yeah sweetheart, you should be ashamed!"

Riley spluttered with incredulity. "You arrogant, self-obsessed, bigoted, misogynistic jerk!" She was shrieking now, but hardly cared. "I am ten times the wrestler you could ever hope to be! Face facts, I was better than you tonight, and I won the match fair and square. Just because you're threatened by a woman who is secure in her sexuality and isn't ashamed to be proud of it, you brand us all whores? What is the matter with you, you pig!"

"A woman secure in her sexuality?" He scoffed, eyes rolling. "All I see is a little girl all dressed up acting the slut for attention! Don't kid yourself. You can't wrestle for shit, sweetheart!"

Riley felt her hand connect with his face in a stinging slap before she realised she'd even thrown her hand at his cheek. The crack of palm on cheek reverberated down the corridor, the force of it turning Desperado's face to the side.

Then he turned his head back to her, his face an inch from hers, and she gasped as he slammed his hands on the wall on either side of her head. His blue eyes blazed with burning anger, and Riley couldn't help but shrink back against the wall in fear. He was so enraged, for a moment she wasn't sure whether he was about to kiss her or punch her head straight off her shoulders.

"You've got no idea how hard I've worked to get here tonight." His voice was softer now, strained, but full of mute fury. "You haven't got a clue of what I've been through, what I've sacrificed to make it this far. Why would you? You don't have a clue. You don't even care."

Riley got the sense that he was perhaps sharing some private relating to his struggles, but she wasn't in the frame of mind to be a decent listening ear. "Don't presume that you're the only person who has had to fight to earn their spot tonight." His arrogance astounded her, and Riley doubted anything he could have suffered could have compared with the overbearing dominance of living under Trish Orton's roof. She had risked everything to be here tonight. "You don't know anything about me, so don't start crying about how hard you've had it, okay? You won't get any sympathy from me."

He considered her face now, his own awash with interest. She obviously intrigued him. Desperado's eyes were narrowed in concentration rather than anger, and the ghost of a smile seemed to twitch the corner of his mouth. His eyes travelled down to her lips, and maybe Riley imagined it, but a hungry expression flickered across his features.

Tearing his eyes back up to hers, he sighed, clearly frustrated. "Whatever sweetheart. The simple fact is, you've stolen my dream and I will never, ever forgive you for it. I hope you fail miserably at your try-out, and you get laughed out of the arena for being a pathetic little girl. You don't deserve a shot, and I hope the worst of the worst gets picked for a developmental contract over you."

"Aren't you just the charmer?" Riley sneered. She never had been face to face with such outright venom before, well unless she counted her confrontations with Savannah. But even they seemed tame in comparison to the borderline hatred she was face with in Desperado's eyes.

"Why should I be pleasant to a worthless bitch like you?"

Her face falling in shocked, Riley balled her fists at her sides, ready to sock him straight between the eyes and the consequences be damned. How dare he speak to her like that! Try outs or not, that was plain out of order. She was never given the chance to physically express her anger at his words however, as the panting snort of the booker came from around the corner.

"There ya fuckin' are princess!"

Immediately, Riley wrapped her eye mask around her face as Desperado stepped away from leaning over. Just as the booker lumbered over to them, Riley pulled her wig back over her head, desperately trying to push her natural hair beneath it. Risking a glance back at Desperado, she could see that he too had replaced his mask over his face, and was suddenly curious for his reasons to be hiding his identity.

Coming to a stop opposite Riley, the booker rested his hand against the wall as he panted. He was sweating profusely, and his bloated head was the colour of beetroot. "I've been…lookin' everywhere…for ya…princess…jesus tonight…need oxygen mask…"

Coughing in the back of his throat, the booker spat something out onto the floor to his side. It hit the grey concrete with a sickening slap. Fighting back a wave of nausea, Riley refused to look down at whatever filth he'd produced. As she turned her head, she missed Desperado bending down to pick up something off the floor behind her and slip it into the back of his wrestling tights.

"Congrats on ya win princess," he leered, "didn't think you had it in ya. Not for a fuckin' second." Sticking a hand into his sweat pants, he produced a fist full of dollars and counted out $150 in Riley's hand. "And as promised, one hundred and fuckin' fifty for ya. Now, details on the regionals."

Riley just nodded, rolling the notes up inside her glove as she half wondered if they'd survive being bleached and boiled for cleanliness. Across from her, she noticed Desperado physically stiffen at the mention of the try outs.

"You're due at the Calaveras facility a week Saturday. Be there at 8am for the induction and try-outs. Expect to be there all fuckin' weekend. If you can't spare the time, don't fuckin' bother at all." Riley nodded mutely, already trying to figure out how she could disappear for the weekend without arousing suspicion. "In the envelope is all the particulars you'll need for the events. Any questions? Good."

She hadn't been given the opportunity to ask any, but Riley wasn't particularly bothered. She was more concerned with where he'd stashed the white A4 sized envelope he was now handing her, and if she would ever be clean after scrubbing her hands.

"As for you Desperado," the booker turned his attention to him, and Riley watched with interest, "you totally dropped the fuckin' ball. Winning streak all day then falling at the last fuckin' hurdle. Being beaten by some sing piece of pussy? Fuckin' shameful, I say." Desperado seemed to hang his head in shamed frustration, hands clenched at his sides. Riley felt the right to be offended, not just because of the way he'd described her, but the suggestion it was somehow unacceptable to lose to a girl. "Still, seems the higher powers were impressed with your earlier matches. Lucky fuckin' you. And the match you two had just now? It was fuckin' legendary. Congrats kid, you got yourself a try-out at the regionals as well."

Even though he was wearing a mask, Riley could tell how shocked Desperado was. He'd been convinced it was over for him, and yet here he was being thrown a lifeline. Disbelief blossomed into cautious hope as he stared intently at the booker for signs of dishonesty or practical joking.

He was clearly being serious however, as the booker handed Desperado his envelope. "If I was you, I'd be lickin' the princess' boots clean right now. She fuckin' saved your ass by puttin' on a good match with you." He looked from Riley to Desperado. "Beaten by pussy. Never though I'd see the fuckin' day." Turning on his heel, he wobbled back up the corridor, roaring with laughter all the way.

When he was out of sight, Riley smirked at Desperado, clearly expecting a grovelling apology for his stinking attitude earlier. "I guess it didn't turn so badly after all, huh?"

Underneath his mask, Desperado glared. "Don't think for a second this lets you off the hook _Dita_." He sneered her name like it was a disgusting profanity. "You humiliated me out there tonight, and I'm going to make it my purpose in life to do the same to you. In fact, I'm going to make your weekend a living hell, not to mention making damn well sure you don't qualify for a developmental contract."

Riley was genuinely surprised at the spite in his voice, and shivered because of the cold stare he pinned on her.

"See you in a week, sweetheart." Without another word, Desperado turned and ran back down the corridor, obviously having better places to be. The sound of his boots clattering faded out long after he was out of sight.

Alone for a second, Riley heard her heart pounding wildly in her ears. Why was Desperado being such a butt hole to her now? He got a try-out didn't he? What possible reason could he give to justify being so horrible to her now? Suddenly the prospect of competing in the regionals didn't look as appealing to Riley now.

Getting up from the wall, she walked as quickly as she could, pushing through the double doors and ended up back out into the car park. True to his word, Jared was waiting nearby in his car, the passenger seat door already open and waiting for Riley's arrival.

Sliding into the seat, Riley grimaced as pain flared in her back. Jared watched her with expectant eyes. "I did it. I've got a try-out. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow over breakfast. Now break some speed limits and get me back to the club as fast as you can. God only knows what Melody's doing to keep the distraction going!"

Riley painfully crawled into the back seat, noticing the gift-wrapped box waiting on the back seat. Without hesitation, she tore the wrapping off and opened the box. Picking up the gift card inside, she recognised Melody's handwriting.

"My best friend is a genius!" Riley chuckled as she saw what Melody had packed in the box.

In the front seat Jared smirked and without further instruction slammed the car into gear and took off at full speed back toward the city.

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Smoothing her hair back from her face, Melody almost fell as she stumbled on her heels. She was walking so quickly and without care, and had to catch herself on the railing of the stage's side platform to stop a tumble down the steps. Composing herself, she scanned the crowd for Trish Orton. As feared, her best friend's mother was deep amongst the crowding parents by the present's table. Trish looked concerned, even mildly agitated. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, Melody knew things were about to get sticky. It was only a matter of time now before Trish or someone else worked out that Riley wasn't here; in fact she hadn't been for quite some time now.

_Time for Diversion Plan B_, Melody mused.

Quickly heading down the steps and across the dance floor, Melody stopped short of her intended destination as she noticed Riley's father waving at her. No, he wasn't waving, he beckoning to her. It was then Melody noticed Trish at Randy's side. She obviously had moved damn quickly from the other adults to be by Randy now. Ordinarily this would have been something to rejoice about, but Melody knew Trish would have to be worked up to go to estranged husband for help. To make matters worse, Riley's parents were flanked by Parker, whose handsome face was creased into a mask of concern.

Feeling like she were taking her final walk on death row, Melody trudged back the way she came, heading toward the upper level where the three Orton's stood in varying degrees of frustration. The game was up, Melody feared. Already, her mouth was twitching in excuses and half-lies in order to cover for Riley. She knew however that she wouldn't be able to lie to either Trish or Randy. And even if by some miracle she could convince either of a little half-truth, they wouldn't be pacified for very long at all. They would need to see Riley in the flesh. Unfortunately, their daughter was still a good fifteen minutes away, at least my Melody's precise calculations.

_Any last requests? _She thought grimly to herself, as she walked up the steps to join them. None of them looked happy.

"Melody," Randy stated by way of greeting, "do you know where Riley is? We haven't seen her for a while now. I know she was headed outside for some air when Jeremy was here, but that was about an hour and a half ago. No-one seems to know where she is."

"Or when she was last seen." Trish helpfully added. A quick shared glance between Randy and Trish alerted Melody to the fact that they'd discussed this before asking her.

Melody grinned a little hysterically, hoping her performance would allay some of their fears. "Really? I saw her during my dance. She was really into it, cheering me on and everything."

Parker made a strangled coughing sound behind his parents. Randy suppressed a smirk, where as Trish just frowned over her shoulder. Melody arched an eyebrow at Parker, but couldn't follow it up as Trish caught her attention. "No-one else saw her Mel. Where was she stood? Are you sure it was her?"

"I think I'd know my own best friend Mrs. O," Melody scoffed, a little more incredulously than was needed or intended. "I mean, she was on the dance floor near the girls. You must have heard her hollering, she was really, really loud."

Trish didn't look convinced. "The girls say they haven't seen her since they got here."

Melody couldn't help but gulp in a breath of air. _Traitorous skanks._ "They have to be mistaken, I saw her with my own eyes. Really, I did. She was just there not ten minutes ago."

Gesturing wildly with her hand, Melody felt panic rising in her chest as no-one looked to where she was indicating. In fact, their faces seemed to have become stonier, with Randy taking an almost imperceptible step toward her. "Melody, what aren't you telling us?"

"W-what do you mean?" She stammered, twisting the hem of her dress between her hands. Was she really that obvious? Apparently so. "I'm telling you, she was just…"

"She wasn't just anywhere Melody. She hasn't been inside the club for at least an hour, we're sure of it." Melody looked from the three faces, before turning back to Randy as he continued, his voice softly raised in agitation. "And I get the feeling the pair of you are up to something. If you know where she Melody, I suggest you start talking. Now."

Melody shrieked a nervous laugh. "Seriously Mr. O, you need to chillax already. She's just over there somewhere. Or maybe she's in the bathroom. Look, I'll help you look for her."

Turning on her heel to run out into the crowd, Melody was stopped as Trish grabbed her firmly on the arm. "Melody, where is my daughter?"

Blanching at the question, Melody nervously bit down on her bottom lip. "She's here, I already told you."

"Fine." Trish's voice had become eerily calm, and Parker automatically shrank back as a result. He knew when his mother adopted this level of false calm that things were about to get incredibly bad for everyone. He tried to convey this through his eyes to Melody, to no avail. She wasn't picking up on it, and Trish was now far too gone anyway for it to have made a difference. "Then you won't mind coming onto the stage with me and calling Riley up to join us, will you?"

"I…uh…o-okay?" _Crap, crap, crap!_

Still with a gentle but firm hold on Melody's arm, Trish led the way down the steps and across the dance floor. Taking the steps behind the DJ Booth, she snatched a radio microphone from the booth and began pounding it against her leg before the DJ realised what was going on. As soon as he had caught up, he quickly turned down the volume of the song playing, looking as interested as the rest of the club who were now all focused on the stage. As soon as she was sure she their attention, Trish lifted the microphone to her lips and her voice echoed out into the club.

"Hey everyone, sorry to interrupt you but it's time for Riley to unwrap her presents. Riley baby, do you want to come on up here and say a few words first?"

An expectant round of applause broke as well as several cheers as everyone expected the bubbly face of Riley to emerge from the crowd and join her mother and best friend. After a minute however, the applause died as Riley did not appear. A hushed silence descended on the club, and Melody could feel her face burning. She suddenly understood the idea of wanting to have the ground open up and swallow you whole. This was easily the most embarrassing moment of her entire life. She knew Riley wouldn't come, how could she? She was probably still on her way here, stuck in traffic if the current turn of luck was anything to judge by. The question now became how was she to salvage the situation?

"Riley, honey? Come on up here please." Trish repeated, although it was obvious by her tone of voice that she wasn't expecting her daughter to come out.

Now everyone in the club was turning around, whispering to themselves and looking for the birthday girl. Of course, she was nowhere to be found. Biting down on her bottom lip, Melody fearfully turned to see the scowling face of Trish opposite her. "Melody, would you care to explain?"

With that, Trish thrust the microphone against Melody's chest, and she had to catch it before it felt to the ground. Licking her lips, Melody stared out at the full club, and felt the intense weight of so many sets of eyes staring back at her. It was now well and truly over. Her mind whirred quickly with something to say, some excuse to give protect her best friend, but nothing came to mind. There was nothing she could say now that could even remotely drag her and Riley out of the mess they'd landed in.

"Uh, well. The thing is… you see Riley…she's um, she had to…it's kinda a funny story actually, because she…" Risking a glance at Trish, Melody realised that she'd better get on with it before her mother's friend launched herself across the stage at her throat.

"Riley, she's had to…I mean…she's…well, she's not-…"

It seemed luck hadn't entirely deserted Melody or Riley for that matter, as she wasn't able to finish the sentence. Just as Melody was about admit to Riley's absence, she was abruptly cut off by the wailing sound of siren. On the ceiling of the club, emergency lights flickered on. Confused, Melody lowered the microphone as the DJ joined her on stage. Taking the microphone from Melody, he spoke into it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that's the fire alarm. If I can ask everyone to calmly and carefully make their way outside through the main exit. Parents, if you could co-ordinate? Thanks."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Melody slipped of the stage before Trish could catch her and quickly move to blend in with the crowd. She didn't know why the alarm had gone off, but silently thanked whatever God had taken pity on her in her moment of terrified shame. Using the situation to her complete advantage, Melody managed to loose herself amongst the bodies, and followed the flow outside onto the street where she easily blended in with the rest. If she was lucky, she could stay hidden amongst everyone else till Riley got back.

All around people huddled in groups, and were chattering excitedly about what had happened, not to mention speculating on where Riley was. Glancing down the street, Melody frowned as there was still no sign of her friend. _Come on Riley! I need you here!_

Melody felt utterly foolish now. Of course she knew why she'd agreed to be a part of this in the first place, but she know was aghast at she ever thought that they were going to get away with it in the first place. Of course they were bound to be found out. How stupid could they have been? How could Riley vanish from her own birthday party and nobody notice? It was ludicrous, and Melody wished she'd seen this kind of sense before agreeing to be a part of this plan in the beginning. Pondering on how to recover the situation, she yelped as she felt a hand on her elbow. Whirling around, her heart sank as once more she was confronted by Trish and Randy.

"Melody, you were about to say? Where is Riley?" Randy's voice sounded stressed, and not exactly friendly. "Stop messing us around and spit it out. Where is she? I know you know where she is, and if I had to bet on it, I'd say you were covering for her. I'm on the money, aren't I?"

Melody had to look away, knowing if she held Randy's gaze he would blatantly see the truth in her eyes. What was she going to say? Did she admit the truth and tell Randy and Trish where Riley had gone? She couldn't do that, not to Riley. Not only would she be betraying her best friend's confidence, but she could imagine what the reaction would be when they learned she'd been for a wrestling try out. Maybe she could think of some other reason why Riley had disappeared. If it was convincing enough, she might just get away with it. However Melody wasn't given the chance to come up with a plausible reason, and would later kick herself for not planning for this eventuality in the beginning.

"Come on sweetheart," Trish coaxed gently, "enough is enough. We're worried about her. I know you're her best friend and you're probably just trying to protect her but it's gone far enough now. Please, tell me where Riley is."

"I'm right here mom."

Everyone turned around as a circle of people formed around Riley. Stood next to Jared, she smiled calmly, readjusting the silk wrap around her shoulders. Riley was going to thank Melody for her genius at leaving the wrap in the box as it perfectly covered the ugly bruise on her shoulder. And thanks to Jared's illegal speeding, they'd made it back to the club with almost ten minutes to spare out of her friend's schedule.

"Riley," Trish uttered, taking a step toward her daughter, "are you alright? Where the hell have you been?"

"You didn't go after Jeremy, did you?" Randy had joined Trish and was looking intently at Riley.

Riley shook her head. "No. I wanted to get some air, that was all."

"For two hours?" Trish commented, resting a hand on her hip as her motherly six sense told her something was up.

"Don't be silly mom. I haven't been out here that long."

"No-one saw you in the club young lady," Randy stated, clearly backing Trish up, "not for a long time. I suggest you start explaining, now."

Riley rolled her eyes, as if her parents were being impossibly boring. "What? I came back inside, hung with Jared for a little while." Riley motioned to Jared over her shoulder, and he simply smiled and nodded his head. "Then I remembered I'd forgotten my wrap, so I snuck out of the last ten minutes of Melody's routine to pick it up."

"How did you get back to the house?" Trish fired.

"Jared gave me a ride." Riley answered with a smile.

"How much of the dance did you see?" Randy countered, "what did Melody do?"

Melody, fearful of how Riley would answer paled, but she needn't have bothered. Earlier in the day, Melody had detailed her plan to Jared to make him agree to help in the scheme, and he had told Riley on the return journey. "Most of it. I saw as far as scarf number five before I dashed out. Anymore, and I may have gone blind."

Melody and Riley chuckled, more out of relief than anything else. Trish and Randy turned to one another, clearly not convinced. "What happened to your hair Riley? Where's your clip that you had in your hair?"

Automatically, Riley reached a hand up to her hair and gasped. Her diamante encrusted hair clip was gone. Realising it must have fallen out at the arena when she took her wig, she swallowed quickly. "I took it out at home, my hair wasn't really working for me in the style I had it."

Once more Randy and Trish looked at each other, communicating silently. Riley was instantly reminded of how her parents did that when she was younger, speaking volumes with just their eyes. For the briefest of moments, she was filled with hope. Maybe her parents were talking again, perhaps it could lead to some kind of reconciliation. Riley was cut off mid fantasy as Trish turned to her once more. "We'll talk later."

Her voice was devoid of emotion, and Riley couldn't help but wince. And with that, both parents disappeared into the crowds of people, separately, much to Riley's disappointment. She wasn't given time to dwell however, as Melody was upon her.

"Oh my god that was close! You did brilliantly! How did it go?" Melody grinned, practically hopping up and down with excitement as the club owner announced it was safe for them to back inside.

As Riley and Melody joined the crush, Riley whispered into her friend's ear. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. When did you come up with the idea for the fire alarm? It was genius!"

Melody shrugged. "Wasn't me." Suddenly she found herself wondering how exactly the alarm had been set off. Was it just a freak coincidence, or something else entirely?

As if to answer her question, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught both girls' attention. Glancing behind them, they saw Lucas, who waved and quickly winked. Riley caught the look that passed between her friends and turned back to Melody with an arched eyebrow.

"Lucas did it?" She hissed. "What the hell happened between you two tonight?"

Melody chuckled as she slung her arm around her friend's waist. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Let's just enjoy the party tonight."

With a knowing smile, Riley followed her friend inside to finally celebrate her birthday.


	14. Morning plots

_**A/N**_**: Yo dudes, remember me? It's been a hot minute since I've been near FF let alone posted anything, but a recent review on another story brought me back here and I remembered my little Randy/Trish saga that I started years ago. What can I say? Reading through this ignited my fire for this story and wrestling in general again. So, without further ramble, on with the story!**

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"Ow…ow…OW!" Riley barked in pain, eyes screwing shut whilst Melody in turn winced as she eased her friend's arm out into a stretch. Riley clamped the ice pack to her shoulder, wishing the caress of cold was doing something to lessen the burning pain in her limbs that was much worse fifteen hours later than when she'd originally gotten the injury.

It was the morning after her birthday party, after her successful attempt to join World Wrestling Entertainment and she was on a serious come down after her monumental high. She'd woken in full bruise bloom, ugly purple and red welts marking her body from her shoulders to her lower back and even her cheeks. Thankfully her mother had gone out early to work and hadn't seen the state her daughter was in otherwise it would have led to difficult conversations she couldn't face when Riley wasn't exactly feeling her best. How exactly she was meant to explain the state of her battered and bruised body when she'd officially only attended her own birthday party was a screaming match for another time.

Melody had come over at Riley's whimpering insistence, armed with pain killers, chick flicks and copious amounts of ice cream. Cooped up on Riley's bed, together they'd worked out the kinks in Riley's lower back and assessed the remainder of the damage to her body. It was only really now her right arm that was giving her real trouble and the slow circles that Melody twisted the limb was starting to ease out the tension.

"The hell were you wrestling against?" Melody muttered as she worked Riley's arm socket into another slow loop. "An eighteen wheeler? You are going to have to cover that bruise on your face with something and just pray your momma doesn't notice the limp!"

Riley smirked, lowering her arm as Melody released her, still clutching the ice pack to her shoulder. "Relax Dee. My mother is far too busy being concerned with her own self-importance to even notice I've been through the ringer. By the time she remembers me I'll have worked most of this out."

"Yeah," Melody snorted, reaching for the bag of chips she'd brought with her, "like anything ever gets by Trish Orton. She'll have the other guy up on assault and battery charges when she finds out." She stopped mid crunch, eyeing Riley inquisitively. "It was a guy who beat you up, right? You didn't finish telling me last night."

The Orton's daughter swiped at her friend with a pillow, instantly regretting it due to the lick of flame running up the length of her arm. "Yes, it was a guy I beat last night. He was wrestling under the name Desperado. Dickhead would have been more fitting based on the 'tude he gave me. I've never met a more arrogant, pompous misogynistic asshole in my entire life. And I've been babysat by Ric Flair!"

"Too many syllables," Melody waved her hand, "big words. Ugh. Brain dying." Melody flailed her arms dramatically, much to Riley's amusement. "Let's get down to the important stuff. Would you take him round back and ride him like a dime store pony?"

"Melody!" Riley squeaked in scandalized horror. "Do you ever think with any part of your anatomy other than your freakin' doo-dah? There are more important things in life than taking a guy to bed you know!" Riley rolled her eyes, sinking back into the throne of pillows she'd artfully constructed for herself to ease her consistently painful sitting position.

"Please. Guys exist for exactly three reason." Melody moved to sit up on her knees, raising a finger to list of each point of her theory on men. "Financial security. Buying me pretty shit. Busting the headboard when they bang you through the bed. All you need in life my friend, all you need." Melody nodded, satisfied that she'd made her point crystal clear to Riley. "And you never answered the question, by the way, so don't think you can get out of it with your mock shock at my potty mouth. Lord knows you've heard me say worse. Most of it about your _fine_ piece of ass father."

"True," Riley shrugged, reaching for a chip out of the bag. "And yes. This guy was beautiful. Like, easily the most physically attractive man I've ever seen in my entire life. Problem is, he knows it and acts like he's God's gift to pretty much everything around him. You know he had the _nerve_ to call me a bitch just because I screwed up his try-out? They even gave him a place at the training camp and everything, but he still acted like I'd come into his house on Christmas morning and crapped on his new puppy."

Melody made a face, replacing the chip she'd been about to eat. "First of all, the most disgusting mental image in the history of mental images." She shuddered, which only made Riley giggle a little more. "But really Ri, you know how fragile boys are. They can't stand losing, and you not only kicked his ass but basically stole his man card at the same time. You may as well have cut off his balls and made them into earrings. All 'cos you're a girl."

"Just because I'm a girl? Why does everything have to come down to what body parts I have!" Melody could tell from the way Riley was scaling the octaves that she was about to have a temper tantrum and rushed to intervene before the wrath of the Stratus-Orton hybrid was unleashed all over California.

"Honey, you could be the best wrestler in the history of wrestling but the fact that you've got tits would make it the most unforgiveable insult in the world. It's like the way of the world. We women are just second class citizen when it comes to like, everything." Riley continued to glower as Melody attempted to explain. "Boys are like bi-polar when it comes to this stuff and their ego. The love us, but can't take it when we're better than them. It's like genetics or something. Like you remember me and Bobby Owen last year?" Riley nodded, recalling the few weeks that her friend had dated the captain of the basketball team. "The simple fact that I made his ex-girlfriend orgasm better than he did was like unacceptable. Never mind the fact he's got two hotties going at it right in front of his eyes, just because I had to the tongue talent to make her squeal like a piglet and he couldn't was something he couldn't handle. It meant we had to break up and it was a shame because his joystick was thicker than my entire arm."

By now Riley had covered her face with a pillow, half trying to smother herself whilst blocking out the details. "Dee, I do not need to know this stuff. I didn't know you'd gone for girl on girl action. And I don't need to know anymore," she quickly continued as she saw Melody about to launch into a more detailed explanation of her other female exploits. "But you're probably right. Still, it annoys me that just because I'm better than him he gets to pass me off as a bitch and pitch a fit over it. Why is it we have to be bitches and sluts just because we can handle ourselves and look hot doing it?"

"If I knew the answer to that I'd be richer than Oprah." Melody decided.

Riley smirked. "Well I can't wait to get to training just so I can kick his ass."

"Yeah about that," Melody bit down onto her bottom lip, looking a little unsure of herself and not wanting to tempt the wrath of Riley, "how is that going to work exactly? Won't your parents kinda notice that you've disappeared for a few days and come back looking like you've been mugged? Not to mention the fact that your dad is heading up then try outs? I'm pretty sure he'd be able to pick you out from the crowd."

"I've got it all covered," Riley said with a knowing grin, crossing her legs in front of her. "I'm going to tell my mom that I'm staying the weekend with you as a late birthday present. Your mom will be too deep in her vodka valium mocha latte induced coma to contradict if the almighty Patricia Orton calls up to check, right?"

Melody nodded. "This is true. I could be wearing Lady GaGa as a hat and she wouldn't flinch. What about your dad though? I'm pretty sure he'll notice when he sees his daughter rocking up to training."

"I doubt he'll be that hands on," Riley offered, fiddling with the hem of the shorts she was wearing, "besides, from what Lucas told me, these try outs are more like boot camp anyway with a bunch of drill instructors putting you through your paces. The guys in charge only really come in at the end for the final product and the ring time. And when I get to that stage, I'll have my awesome Dita disguise ready. Ready and willing to kick that Desperado's butt three ways from Sunday."

"What's with that, anyway? Desperado. Didn't you say he wore a mask?" Riley nodded in confirmation. "If he's half as hot as you say, why cover up a beautiful face like that?"

"Dunno. It was weird, I mean I think he pulled it off because he was so pissed at me, but then when that creepy booker dude came over he couldn't get it back on again fast enough, like me with my wig. Maybe he didn't want to be recognised."

"Makes you wonder why. Did you recognise him?" Melody enquired, twisting a strand of her hair back into place. "Maybe he's an escaped convict or something and he's on American's Most Wanted. Or he could be a superhero. Or he could be a celebrity."

"All likely scenarios," Riley grinned, "but I'm not sure. There was something familiar about his face, but I can't put my finger on what." Riley's mind trailed along through her memory, trying to place the beautiful face behind the mask. There was something familiar that, although she couldn't work out what. She was fairly certain they'd hadn't met before, it wasn't that sort of feeling. Although that didn't exactly make the situation any clearer.

"Maybe he put his finger in you," Melody suggested, giving her friend a wicked grin with her shocked expression. "Oh come _on _Ri, we've all be there. You've met a guy at the club, let his hands go for a wander and forgotten his face the next day. Makes it really awkward during your Fourth of July barbecue when he has to slip his fingers into your panties for you to recognise him."

"You are shameless!" Riley squealed, covering her face as he cheeks burned with embarrassment at her friends frank admission of one her many sexual conquests.

"Oh shush, shame is for losers. I happen to be a young, free, powerful woman who takes pleasure in sex. Y'all are just jealous." A haughty hair flip brought Riley into a fit of giggles as she stretched her legs out in front of her again. A silence fell between them for a moment, and Melody shifted to lean on one side and prop her head up on one hand. "Are you sure you're ready for this Ri? It's going to take a lot of plotting to pull this off. I mean what happens if you're successful and get called up to regionals? Or FCW even? What then?"

Riley shrugged her shoulders. "One thing at a time Dee. I need to pass next weekend before I worry about what happens next. I'm sure if I get to that stage I'll have more than enough time to worry about it then. Maybe I'll call Lucas and get him to go to bat for me against my mother. We'll figure something out." It hadn't escaped Riley's notice that her friend physically reacted every time she mentioned Luca Cena's name. From what she'd gathered, something had happened between her best friend and the guy who was like her brother from another mother. Something at her party, if her instincts were correct. Melody couldn't keep still whenever the name was brought up. "So what's with you and Lucas, anyway? You twitch every time I say his name."

"I do not!" Melody retorted, having the sense to look shocked and offended at the mere suggestion as she pulled herself up.

Riley leaned closer. "Lucas." _Twitch._ "Lucas." _Twitch. _"Lucas, Lucas, Lucas!" _Twitch, twitch, twitch._

"Will you stop that!" Melody cried, slapping her friend's thigh with her hand. "You're going to give me brain damage or something." She placed her hand over her eye, massaging it to try and stop it from giving her away so readily.

"I knew something was up with you two at my party. Spill it Dee, and don't leave out any of the details," Riley instructed, realising who she was talking to and not wanting to be given too graphic a retelling of the night, "okay, maybe some of the mature details you can leave out. Just give me a flavour of what happened."

Melody paused, staying silent for a long time. In all the years they had been friends, Riley had never known Melody to react like this to a potential new lover. She couldn't say the idea of two of her friends screwing around was something she wanted to know the intimate details of, but even for Melody, this was behaviour she was unaccustomed to. Melody positively revelled in discussing all the sordid bit and pieces. Sometimes Riley was sure she did it just to make her blush and Melody got a real kick out of it most of the time. Now that she was so coy, it really made her want to know more about what had transpired.

"It was…sensational," Melody managed at last. "I've always thought he was hot, but last night…damn! I was like putty in his hand…and mouth." Melody saw the look on Riley's face and smiled. "We almost…but nothing happened. Your mother walked in looking for you before we got anywhere. He had me naked, on a table and he was…well, you don't want to know, but suffice to say it was the most sexual experience of my life. And we didn't even screw."

"Wow," Riley offered, shocked by her friend's candour. That was certainly high praise indeed, coming from Melody.

"Wow it was," Melody agreed, "no guy has ever gotten me that hot and bothered before. He was in complete control of my body, I couldn't resist. And he didn't even force me down on his him, he just made me feel awesome…" Melody trailed off, clearly lost in the memory of Lucas' mouth pressed against her skin. The shudder brought her back to her senses and apparent clarity. "And this one ain't going to get the chance to do it again."

"Why not?" Riley' brow creased in confusion. "You said you always found him attractive, and now you know he makes you feel good, what's the problem?"

"Get serious, Ri." Melody shook her head, smiling at her friend's lack of worldly experience. "There's no way I could let a guy that hot have such a hold over me. I do the humping and dumping, not the other way around. His little tongue twist in Melody land will be his one and only visit. I need to get back on it and break a few hearts and remind everybody who is in the driving sea, y'know?"

Riley remained silent, but inwardly screamed. Melody hated to be vulnerable, it was a trait they shared but they expressed it in such different ways. Despite Melody's experience sexually, she seemed to avoid real closeness like the plague. It was a shame, really, as the more she thought about it the better a match she could see her two friends becoming. At least there was something Riley could do about that, if she planned it right. It was about time Melody stepped up to a grown up relationship, even if she needed just a little nudging in the right direction. Making a mental note to call Lucas later and get his assessment of the situation, she tuned back in to what her friend was saying.

"Besides, it's nothing I have to seriously worry about. Lucas and his little wrestling tribe will roll out of town in a few days and I won't have to see him until the next blue moon when they show up again." Melody sighed, sounding suspiciously like one of relief as she lay down onto the bed.

"Yeah, about that?" Riley smirked, hiding the small look of triumph she already wore as the Universe already conspired along with her. "You know he's going to be there at the McMahon ball, don't you?"

"What?" Melody sat bolt upright. "He's what? No. No. No. I couldn't _possibly_-"

"You promised me. You've bought your dress. You're coming." It was said simply, and Melody knew she couldn't really argue. She had indeed promised to be Riley's date to the ball after Jeremy had announced that it clashed with a scouting visit from a college with a great athletic programme. Melody had agreed to fill in which mean she was duty bound to accompany Riley even if it meant she had to be faced with the guy she was still hot for and wanted to be several states away from right now. Perhaps it was time to plead her way out of the promise.

"Are you sure there's nobody else you could take instead of me? What about your brother? I'm sure he'd accompany you. Or Lucas, even. I bet he'd be a great date." Melody smiled her best convincing grin, but it was wasted on Riley who was already imagining the potential 'accidental' meeting she could engineer between her friend and Lucas.

"Parker is already going, and Luca is taking Madison. And even if they were available you're my best friend and I need you there to protect me from the diabolical presence of my dastardly mother." Melody spluttered, clearly ready to object and throw a myriad of excuses her way. Desperate times required desperate measures. "Don't make me pull out the BFF card." Riley's tone became deadly serious as Melody's eyes widened with shock.

"You…you wouldn't!" She chocked, blindly looking for the nearest exit.

"Oh I would," Riley replied, reaching her hand into the neck of her tee-shirt to pull out an invisible but very real card that she mimed tossing down in front of her between herself and Melody. It was a game the girls had come up with in the first few months of knowing each other. They'd written a charter of sorts, of what being the other's best friend meant. One thing they had been clear on was the BFF card. It symbolised their friendship in such a way that when it was played, the other friend had no choice but to bow to the other's wishes, even if it was something they really didn't want to do. Of course Melody had played the card last which meant it was firmly in Riley's 'possession'. They had created a rule whereby the card couldn't be replayed in response to a playing, so there would be no such loophole where Melody could play it in response to Riley's playing and thus get herself out of the deal.

It represented an iron clad contract, meaning Melody was given no choice in the matter. She reached down and scooped up the imaginary card and mimed tucking it into her shirt. "Oh I'll get your for this, Riley Kendall Orton. You just wait."

Melody sat with a pout, whilst Riley merely grinned. "Oh come on Dee, there will be music and food and champagne, you'll have a great time." Melody looked les than convinced. "And after the couple of days I've had? I need some serious moral support." She swallowed, and cast her eyes downwards. The memory of the shock revelation of her boyfriend and arch enemy came flooding back "Have…have you heard anything about Jeremy and Savannah?"

Her friend nodded, suddenly feeling bad for having created such a fuss when she knew what a tough time her best friend had been dealing with. "Apparently Savannah has been crowing about your suspension and the fact she and tiny dick have gotten together." Riley's eyes bulged in their head. "Apparently they're an item now, Jeremy has said he's moving on with her because of last night. It's all over Facebook."

Icicles of pain stabbed themselves into Riley' heart at the thought of her boyfriend dating Savannah. What had she done to deserve his infidelity? Because she wouldn't sleep with him? Hell, it hadn't even been that. She would have slept with him, when she felt ready. Couldn't he have been just a little more patient? She really was going to do it.

_Would you? _A voice said in the back of her mind. Riley couldn't help but wonder if the reason she'd held off going to bed with Jeremy for so long had been because deep down she knew that maybe he wasn't the love of her life that she'd once thought he was. Perhaps that why it never felt like the right time, because she hadn't been with the right guy. If that were true thought, then why did his betrayal hurt her so much now? On cue, her lips started to wobble and tears stung her eyes. Maybe she should have just given it up to keep Jeremy with her. Riley loved him, she was sure of that, and now she was without him and probably the laughing stock of the entire school.

"Don't cry over that butt crack," Melody said softly, scooting up the bed to wrap an arm around her friend and gently brush away the tear that left a wet streak over Riley's bruised cheek. "He and Savannah dropped a few dozen friends on Facebook when it all became public. Everybody knows he did the dirty on you, and nobody really likes Savannah anyway. Plus, I heard the entire boy population of the school is dying for you to come back to school so they can ask you out."

Melody's beaming smile did nothing to lift Riley's dampened spirit. It didn't matter if every guy from here to New York wanted to take her out on a date. They just weren't the one she wanted to be with. "They're not Jeremy though, are they? He's the first boy that I've ever loved and I guess he just didn't love me. I don't know how I'm supposed to get over that."

More tears, and Melody's squeezed her friend tighter. "You know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new. And failing that, I know like a ton of places we can bury Savannah's body. No-one would ever find her." That brought a smile to Riley's face, giving her friend a small sense of satisfaction as she pondered the ways to make Riley see she really was better off without that jerk. "We will get through this Riley. I promise you. And they'll get theirs, just you wait."

Riley certainly hoped that were the case, even if it was difficult to believe right now. At least she didn't have to worry about going back to school yet. Those pitiful glances and whispered conversations in hallways as people talked about her would be too much to deal with. Time away would help, even if it was under a suspension, as would focusing on her FCW try out matches and manoeuvring Lucas and Melody together. If nothing else, getting suspended meant she really was her father's daughter.

"Come on Orton, let's see what I can do to that face of yours." Melody chuckled maniacally as she reached for her make up bag, already scheming what she could do to cover up the bruises.

Perhaps Riley could get through this. It would take some artful deception on her part, not to mention a whole heap of luck. But if she could fight her way the weekend try outs and make it to FCW maybe she wouldn't even have to think about going back to school and facing everyone again. She could leave all the gossip and Jeremy and Savannah behind in the past. Better still, if Lucas and Melody did get it together perhaps her best friend could come along for the ride. They could go on the road together and it would all work out. It was clear that the next few week were going to be all about the timing. Everything needed to be planned to perfection and Riley vowed that one way or another, she was going to make it work.


	15. Cry It Out

_**A/N**_**: Thank you for the views and reviews. It's amazing to think anyone is still reading this story so many years later. As noted, I have made a few tweaks as I've started posting again to make it more relevant to wrestling of today. Apologies if these changes are glaring obvious to previous chapters but I'd like to keep this one as grounded in reality as I can. Since I'm newly returned and all, reviews would be appreciated just to let me know what you guys think. I've even turned anon on if you feel like reviewing that way. I disclaim!**

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There was the slow exhale of breath, a gentle tightening of the abdomen and the serenity of the stretch. Seconds flowed in minutes, minutes ebbed in the hour and before Trish had realised it, she'd lost most of the morning to her yoga studio. The soon to be ex Mrs. Orton had only intended to have a brief morning stretch before she dealt with the trials and tribulations of the day, and here she was at nearly eleven-thirty barely out of her Sun Salutation.

If she'd learnt anything since opening her own studio all those years ago in Toronto, it was that her body told her how much yoga she needed. The fact that she was content to lose herself in this space and the feeling of tension melting out of her muscles made it clear she was supposed to be here. The politics of the corporate world could wait whilst she attended to her own needs. And really, she truly needed this. After the past few days of serving Randy with divorce papers, of having the leader of her legal team trying to stick his tongue down her throat not to mention the teenage daughter's birthday party…it was a wonder she hadn't been committed from the stress of it all. Trish had the intuition to know that she was on the top of a spiral, one she feared would lead to her being completely out of control as she skidded down it and yoga was her only real means of gaining traction again.

She'd let her thoughts wander too far from the stretch however, become too negative and suddenly the room was in her vision again and she was too aware of her body. Those who practised yoga properly measured age in the flexibility of the spine which mean in yoga years, the once Trish Stratus had the body closer to the age of her daughter. Even with that flexibility, a disturbance to her thought disrupted her balance completely and her hands shot out to catch herself before she face planted._ That's enough yoga for today_ she mused, peeling herself of the aqua mat and heading over to the mirrored wall where she'd dropped her belongings.

The water bottle came first, refreshing her with cold spring water followed by the towel that dabbed at the sheen of sweat covering her brow. The reflection staring back at her from the mirrored wall was older than she felt, although the sadness in the eyes was about right. As a woman in her forties, Trish honestly didn't think she looked her age, but the careworn features and sleepless nights were starting to catch up with her. She seemed to exude an aura of sadness, one even her reflection pityingly looked back with.

"Stop it, Trish." She told herself fiercely, turning her back on the empty brown eyes that had been peering back at her. This was her choice. She was doing what was right for her and making everyone's life easier. She could be Trish Stratus again, move on with her life and let Randy be free of her. The notion that she might move on with someone else was stupid of course, there never would be anyone for her other than Randy, although it hurt to think that it might not be the same for her husband. Once upon a time she'd believed they'd be together forever, and now here she was contemplating a life entirely without him and wondering if maybe he would slip back into old habits and bed everything with pulse. She didn't honestly know whether she'd prefer Randy becoming promiscuous or settling down with another woman. Both hurt in different ways.

The notion that the thought had begun with 'once upon a time' said it all, really. Fairytales were a lie, setting up false hope in generation after generation of women only to see them failing, heartbroken and settling. What example was she setting for her own daughter by believing there was such a thing as a happily ever after? There was living life, and you did it as best you could. Surely that should be the message that was distilled in the nation's youth? Isn't that what her baby girl should be understanding?

Her own daughter. The moment her thoughts turned to Riley, Trish released a deep rooted sigh. There was such a wall between her and Riley now, Trish couldn't even see daylight over the top of it. Riley threw up barrier after barrier, keeping Trish out and blaming her for everything that she could. The mother-daughter bond they had once shared had faded and Trish didn't know how to get it back. She could remember a time not that long ago where they shared everything. Now Trish was little more than an ATM machine and constant thorn in her daughter's side, the obstacle between her and her father. Riley would truly hate her for what she was about to do, to end the union with Randy, and it would be a transgression that could never be forgiven. Never mind how much this hurt Trish to let go of the love of her life, or how Randy had an equal portion of blame to shoulder for the failure of their marriage. Trish would be the enemy to Riley and it would destroy any hope of reconciliation between them.

And all Trish could think of was better her than Randy. Riley and Parker idolised their father. They could never know what role he had played in this breakdown. Their relationship needed to be protected even if it made Trish the villain of the piece. It was a cross she was more than willing to bear for the sake of her children's idea of their father.

"I thought I might find you here," came the familiar voice from the entrance to the room, stealing Trish from her depressed musings. Quickly dabbing her eyes with the towel she'd been using, Trish glanced down to the other end of the studio to see the advancing figure of Troy. Perhaps it was the light, or even Trish's deep loneliness but he looked so handsome that she forced herself to look away. Whatever her plans, she was still a married woman and this wasn't acceptable.

"Troy," was all Trish offered, kneeling down to stuff her things into her bag quickly. The cut off training pants and sleeveless figure moulded training shirt suddenly felt like a pathetic attempt at clothing. Trish felt exposed in front of Troy, but had nothing immediate to cover her body with.

"You missed a meeting with some stock holders this morning," he said softly, taking the strap of the training bag and slinging it over his own shoulder despite Trish's weak attempts at protest. "It's fine, I covered for you and they're looking to reinvest some capital for the next financial year." He was beaming at this, but Trish barely raised an eyebrow. This close she could smell his cologne, warm with a hint of spice that made her want to get closer and smell his neck.

"Great," she responded, silently padding barefoot over the wooden floor to the door to create some distance between them. Her body was super charged and supple thanks to her yoga. Having done some extended work on her core, her abdomen and pelvic muscles were warm and almost tingling. It was very easy for that to become sexual arousal and that was the last thing she needed when Troy was so appealing. _Get out of the studio, get to the locker room and shower it off Stratus, _she mentally ordered herself. That was the only way things here were going to end, she was silently adamant.

"Trish, please wait." Troy loosely caught the top of her arm, stopping her escape and made her look back at him. His handsome face, looking so lost with those puppy dog eyes appealed to Trish on a level she hadn't yet experienced with him. All she wanted right now was to be held, to feel the strength of someone else pressed against her and the assurance that everything would be okay. She couldn't get it from Randy, her children practically hated her and Troy so was willing, would it be so wrong just to feel loved for one minute?

"Not now Troy. This really isn't -"

"Please," he silenced her with the pads of his fingers pressed to her lips. "Please. Just hear me out, okay? I feel like ever since that day at the offices, you've been avoiding me." He looked sheepish, dropping his gaze down as the hideously expensive Italian leather shoes he was wearing shuffled over the floor. "I've tried telling you how I feel, and you're not hearing me." He raised his head again, focusing his gaze directly onto Trish. "And it's driving me insane. If for nothing else, you need to help me end this torture. I'm begging you."

He seemed so insistent, so lost that Trish felt her resolve crumbling faster than she could build it up again. It was such a strain to keep holding all these walls up all the time with her heart grieving on the inside. Just for once, Trish desperately wanted to just let them tumble down and feel what she so desperately wanted. Only she knew the only man she wanted to be so exposed to was not in the room with her and she couldn't betray him with Troy. "There's nothing to say Troy. I'm sorry, but I can't reciprocate. For one thing, I'm married."

"You're getting divorced," he cut in seriously, eyes burning with an intensity that was grounded in desire. Trish was used to people finding her attractive, but it had been a while since anyone other than Randy had looked at her like she was a source of water in an arid desert. Or maybe now she was just noticing it again because things had changed in her personal life and it was taking her by surprise.

"I'm still married." She lifted her hand, displaying the wedding ring she still wore despite everything, swallowing against the dryness in her mouth. Did he have to be so close? It was making things confusing. "My vows still mean something to me, and I know I'm getting ready to give them up. And even if I was divorced, I just couldn't start anything. I'm not in the right place, and I have my children and…"

"You're making excuses," Troy pressed forward, giving Trish no choice but to back up against the wall. She had nowhere to run even though the exit was so close. She'd been so _close_ to making it. "I see how much you're hurting Trish, how sad this whole issue with Randy had made you. I want…I mean, I'd like to make you feel better. To just hold you and tell you everything is going to be okay."

He was clearly reading her thoughts, although Trish's body language must have given her away that he was right on the money. She was vaguely aware of the bag sliding to the floor just before Troy put his hands on her hips, pressing more of his weight against her. Her back was to the wall, her front painted against his torso. She could feel the proof of his desire digging into her leg, just as his hands dug into the flesh at her hips. A lid somewhere deep that had been keeping her sexuality at bay was burst and a rush of liquid hot emotion ran through her. She felt sexy again, like a real woman instead of a businessperson and a mother. Troy was making her feel things that she'd nearly almost forgotten since being married, something Randy hadn't made her feel in a long time.

Her chest rose into a gasp, her teeth clamping down onto her bottom lip just as Troy's lips found her neck. Trish moaned at the velvet soft fire caressing her neck, feeling equally guilty that she was betraying her husband because another man was making her feel this way and at the same time more aroused than she could remember being in a long time.

Her rational mind clawed at anything and everything it could think of, trying to throw barriers in the way of why this shouldn't happen. The more it tried however, the fewer reasons it could find. Really, why shouldn't she have this? She'd lost her husband, her daughter violently disliked her, her son would rather spend his time with his father…nobody wanted her, not really and Troy just wanted to make it all better. Why, for once, couldn't she be loved instead of having to be the punching bag for everyone who wanted to take a shot? Was it so wrong to want to be loved and desired and cared for?

Despite her reservations, Trish found herself lifting her hands from her side, reaching up to wrap around Troy's neck. He seemed spurned on by the reaction, kissing down her neck to her collar bone whilst slipping his finger into the waist band of her pants. And yet all Trish could think of was how different this man in her arms felt to her husband. It felt disjointed, foreign and unfamiliar. Randy had once said during a passionate embrace that their bodies had been made perfectly for each other that they fit like they were two halves of a whole. Trish had believed it so deeply that having another man in her arms felt wrong. She wanted to feel all those things she was lonely for, but it seemed only Randy could truly give her what she wanted. Troy, despite his best intentions was a poor imitation.

Once she realised that, it had the same effect as being doused with a bucket of cold water and Trish could no longer breathe with Troy suffocating her. This was a mistake, easily the stupidest thing she'd done for a long time and she had to stop it now.

"Troy…stop it." Trish dropped her arms, planting her hands against his chest and pushing. He was taller than her, heavier and he didn't seem to be listening or perhaps he just didn't care to. He continued to devour her neck, his exploring hands finding their way into the waist band of her panties. Alarm bells were now wailing in Trish's head and she pushed even harder. "Troy, I said get _off _me!"

His hand inched lower, a breath away from between her legs and Trish started to panic. Instinct took over and she fell back into old habits, even if those habits were decades old. She grabbed his free arm and bent his hand down on itself, pushing the entire arm backwards in an awkward hammer lock. The flare of pain snapped Troy out of it, enabling Trish to shove him back with every ounce of strength her petite form possessed. His eyes wide, he instinctively massaged his wrist as Trish panted, placing her hand to her chest as she hurried to pull her pants back into position. She didn't know how long they'd remained like that, staring at one another whilst their hearts pounded for varying reasons of the moment. Eventually however, Trish became aware of the others in the room. She turned her head, barely in time to see the blur of movement in front of the shocked face of Candice Michelle-Cena. Trish turned back again, registering Parker as he threw himself at Troy, spearing the other man to the floor and proceeding to throw punches indiscriminately against the man's face. Twice now in so many days she'd seen her son tackle another to the ground, only this time he was like a boy possessed.

"Parker! Parker stop it!" Trish slipped out of wrestler mode and into her mother mode so easily that she barely noticed it. She was at her son's side, grabbing him by the arm and trying to pull him free of Troy who was trying to shield his face from the thudding blows. Parker was howling incoherently at the man, Trish only catching the odd words like _hands_ and _mother _and the 'c' word which she abhorred and couldn't believe Parker even knew much less would use in full view of her.

It took both Candice and Trish, but they managed to pull her incensed son off of the prone form of Troy. "Parker, baby, you need to calm down!"

Without warning, Parker shoved Trish away, nearly causing her to stumble to the ground which she would have done had Candice not caught her at the last second. The shock at his physical reaction, much less the pain it physically caused her given her son's impressive strength was nothing compared to the cold shard of shock that ran through her at the look in her son's eyes. If Randy Orton had once been called the viper, then he had nothing on the venom that twisted Parker's face into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.

"How…could…you." Each word was punctured by a ragged gasp of air, flung at her like knives to do the most damage they could. Parker positively vibrated with anger, looking ready to launch himself again only this time tackle his own mother to the ground and beat her into a bloody pulp as well. "How could you do this to _dad?_ All this time I've been defending you to Riley and you've been screwing around with this douche?"

"Parker," Troy began, picking himself up from the floor. His voice sounded odd, strained, as though he were speaking through a heavy cold although the face beating was actually the cause. "You can't speak to your mother like that."

Now really wasn't the time for the pretender to his mother's affections to be telling Parker what he could and couldn't do. "_Shut your fucking mouth you son of a bitch!"_ Trish had never seen her son so angry, leaning forward with eyes bulging and veins popping in his neck and temple as he screamed at her lawyer. His skin was going purple by the anger that powered him. This wasn't her beautiful, easy going, charming son. This was some sort of monster who looked like him and was wearing his face like a gruesome mask. There was no way her baby could look at her with such hate, was there?

"Parker, honey, take it easy." Candice held both hands up in a placating gesture, moving from Trish and attempted to get between the boy and Trish's lawyer. She hoped it would be enough to stop Parker launching into a second assault although Candice did not dare to get close enough in genuine fear of how the boy would erupt.

His gaze was on Trish however, with a lethal glare that stabbed her in the heart over and over again. He was furious and disappointed and betrayed by her all at once. She'd failed him as a mother, the one role he was always supposed to count on her for. As far as he was concerned she had betrayed his father and no amount of explanation could make it right. Trish's voice died in her throat, words lost to her as all she could do was burn in the fury of his gaze.

"How could you…how could you." Tears sprung to the corner of Parker's eyes, his riding of the wave of anger now threatening a complete come down. "How could you... I will never forgive you for this…ever…you…you…_whore_!" He threw the last word at her like a spear, but it was blunted by the wobble in his voice as his tears overcame him.

Trish physically recoiled at his words however, her son's anguish fuelling his angry speech to do even more damage. Trish stumbled losing her footing and sank to the ground in what felt like slow motion. Someone caught her before she fell, but she only had eyes for her son, her mind blocked to everyone else at that moment. That look of betrayal and fury was burnt into her mind as Parker fled the room, tears streaming down his face, Candice trying unsuccessfully to keep him in the studio as Trish released a sob. She hadn't known her son was capable of such hate, much less directed to her. He could no longer stand to be in the same room as her, what kind of mother was she?

Candice squared her shoulders, apparently giving up the prospect of going after Parker. She turned around slowly, levelling what Trish assumed to be her with a fierce glare. It didn't matter of course, the rush of blood in Trish's ears barely did anything to drown out the slow thud of her heart and the catch of breath every few seconds. It was like she was stuck in treacle, fighting against a thick sludge that polluted her entire world. She couldn't escape it, couldn't escape Parker's reaction.

"I think you've done enough." Candice's sweet voice was laced with ice as she spoke to Troy who had caught Trish awkwardly from her tumble. The woman herself barely seemed aware of what was going on around her, much less that she had another man's hands all over her. Candice assumed it was some sort of shock, and it was understandable given Parker's meltdown.

"With respect, Mrs. Cena-" Troy was used to battling with pig headed judge and wasn't exactly swayed by Candice. He had started in his best legal tone of voice, or as best he could with blood oozing from his rapidly swelling nose but Candice clearly wasn't interested in the slightest.

"I said you've done enough. Now leave." She extended a single arm away from her body, pointing it toward the exit to the studio. Troy clearly didn't have the brains he was born with, ignoring Candice to carefully turn Trish around in his arms to that he could look into her vacant brown eyes.

"Trish," she said softly, wondering if she was really hearing him after everything that had just happened. "Trish, do you want me to stay with you?"

Something broke through the surface, or at least she came to for a second. "I have to find Parker." Was Trish's reply, her head turning around to face the doorway.

Attempting to break free of Troy, he stopped her, genuinely concerned that perhaps now wasn't the best time for her to attempt to talk to her son. He hadn't expected Trish to pull away with such force, ripping her limbs free and rounding on Troy with a stinging slap to the side of the face. Dull fury coloured Trish's cheeks as she took a few steps back, always moving toward the door. She didn't have time to fool around, for Troy to try and press his agenda all over again. Besides, it was never wise to come between a mother and her child when she knew her baby was in pain.

"You got your answer, now get out before I smash your teeth down your throat." She might have been a five foot-odd middle aged woman, but Troy seriously believed that Candice was indeed capable of such acts of brutality. He cast a final, longing glance toward Trish before heading toward the exit, trying to puzzle out what had happened today.

"Parker." Trish repeated reflexively. "I have to find him…I have to explain."

"Oh no," Candice interjected, catching Trish by the upper arm, stopping her from leaving. "We're going upstairs so we can talk."

"Take your hand off me," the thread was clear in her voice, but Candice made no move to do so. In fact, she gripped the arm even tighter. "I said take your hand off me Candice. I swear I'm not in the mood."

"Look, you wanna fight Patricia? We can have it out here and now and I will slap your stupid ass over every square inch of this yoga studio." It was Trish's turn to be taken back by the seriousness of Candice's statement. "Parker needs to time to calm own. You go after him now and he'll probably black your eye and end up with a prison term." Trish stopped, realising that what Candice was saying was probably true. "And I think you need to get your head sorted before you do try and explain to your sixteen year old son why you were getting hot and heavy with your lawyer."

At once Trish put her hand to her mouth, imagining what Parker must have been thinking at seeing his mother with another man. Of course it wasn't exactly what he was thinking, but it didn't change the fact that at least for a moment, Trish really had wanted Troy. Or at least, she wanted what he represented if not the man himself. Without realising it, Trish had started to cry. Ugly, guilty, round tears spilled over her cheeks accompanied by a trembling that went bone deep. Instantly Candice had her arm around her friend, guiding her out of the studio and up the back stairs out of the view of prying eyes to where her office was situated above the yoga studio itself.

_Strausphere Yoga_ had really taken off, and was now a chain of yoga studios over Canada, America and even a few venues in Europe. Despite its success, Trish had insisted on having office space above each facility so she could work in location if and when she stopped by. It was easy for Candice to take Trish behind the doors to her office unnoticed, planting the woman herself in the plush leather couch against the back wall and rummaging through her desk until she found exactly what it was she needed.

Candice joined her friend on the couch, brandishing an exquisite and unopened bottle of whiskey that had been stashed in one of the desk drawers. Trish gratefully accepted the bottle, taking a deep drink from it, not caring that the searing burn nearly made her gag. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she handed the bottle back to Candice who merely placed it on the table in front of them. Trish needed the dutch courage, something to snap her out of whatever headspace she was in. Candice however didn't want to drink and she certainly didn't need to be wasted at this time of the morning,

"How did you know that was there?" Trish asked absently, rubbing her hand over her neck in an effort to brush away the tingling memory of Troy's lips against her skin.

Candice took her friend's hands, and held onto them in her lap. "I bought you the bottle, remember? When the LA branch opened? You said you'd keep it for a special occasion. I don't know if this qualifies, but I'm glad it was there." Trish merely nodded absently, sinking back onto the couch and diminishing before her friend's gaze. "Trisha…what happened down there?" Trish looked up at Candice with her big, brown eyes that could enchant anyone who met their gaze. They were filled with tears, ready to be cried and Candice prepared herself for the outpouring. "Are you and Troy having an affair?"

She shook her head violently, before dropping it into her hands. "I don't know what happened. I came to do some yoga to clear my head, and he was there. And then…he was kissing me. I pushed him away but…oh god, Parker was right. I'm a whore."

Sighing gently, Candice rubbed her hand over the back of Trish's shoulders, letting her friend cry it out for a minute or two. This certainly crapped on Jeff Hardy's brilliant plan and from a great height too. He'd factored in animosity, uncomfortableness and even resentment for his little plan to reunite their mutual friends. Nobody had even considered adultery. Was that what Trish had been doing? Sleeping around with her staff to get over the break up with her husband? That seemed so not like the Trish she knew, but then Candice couldn't help but wonder just how well she knew this woman any more. They weren't on the road together any longer, and rarely saw each other in person unless it was a special occasion. Maybe over the years Trish had changed, and Candice hadn't wanted to see it.

"When did this thing with you and Parker start?" Candice finally asked, sensing a break in the floods of tears Trish was crying.

"A few days ago," she admitted, brushing her rapidly reddening eyes with her hands. "He admitted he had feelings for me, right after I filed for divorce and he's been trying it on ever since." Had Trish been in the right frame of mind, she would have noticed Candice's lack of response to the news that Trish had applied for a divorce from Randy. As it was, Candice stayed silent. "He wanted to escort me to Riley's birthday, tried to kiss me in my office and now this. Why won't get the message?"

Candice arched a wary eyebrow. "Do you want him to, Trish?" She immediately held her hands at the look Trish shot her. "Hey, I'm just saying. I get how lonely you must be feeling, maybe a small part of you just wanted the attention?"

"No, god no." It was a weak attempt at a defence, Trish knew. Some part of her hand wanted Troy, if only because he wanted her. Pretending otherwise would be an insult to her wedding vows. Now that Candice had said it however, she felt more than pathetic. A needy old cougar starved for attention from her husband and looking for it from elsewhere. "I don't know. Maybe. He just…cares. It's been so long since someone cared that I…I didn't know how to say no."

Candice nodded, understanding even if she didn't agree. "Believe me I understand what it means to feel lonely whilst your man is away. But screwing around with another guy? Don't you think that's a step too far."

Trish's head reared up in abject shock and incredulity. "I have _not_ been screwing around with anyone Candice. I would never cheat on Randy, ever. I would die first."

Righteous anger, fury and pride all rolled into one made a convincing argument. Candice believed Trish hadn't cheated, but she was getting emotionally involved with another man which in some ways was a lot worse. "I believe you Trisha. But this has to stop, this closeness with another guy. It might not be a physical thing, but that doesn't mean you can't cheat on your husband emotionally." Candice let the idea sink in for a few moments. "Stop it now before you actually do something you can't take back."

"I would _never-"_

"Really, Trish? Because if Parker and I hadn't walked in on you two practising the tantric yoga how far would you guys have gone?" Candice hadn't meant to sound as accusing as she did, but the words were fired out in quick succession and she was making a valid point. She expected Trish to shatter under the assault but in fact she did the opposite.

"What the hell were you doing bringing Parker here anyway?" Trish fired back, chest thrown forward with a sense of bravado. "You had no right to-"

"Back up Trish," Candice lifted a single hand, stopping Trish in her blaming path. "Don't even try and make this into my fault because that is bullshit and you know it. Parker called me and asked for a ride to the studio because he couldn't get you on your cell phone. How the hell was I supposed to know that your morning yoga was a little more X rated than usual?"

The wind taken completely out of her sails, Trish deflated. "You're right, I'm sorry Candice. This is not your fault. It's mine. I screwed up. Big." The bottom lip trembling, Candice waited for more tears. "My poor baby boy."

More tears came then, giving Candice the chance to feel appropriately guilty for taking cheap shots at Trish's behaviour. "Look, you said it yourself. Nothing has happened yet. Nothing will happen. You have got to get rid of that Troy dude and go and talk to your husband."

The blonde Canadian shook her head. "There's no point. Parker will have gone straight to Randy and will tell him everything. Randy is going to think that I've been sleeping around behind his back and he's going to hate me and my children will hate me too." Trish sobbed gently. "This is such a mess."

"Didn't you just say you were divorcing Randy?" Candice replied, genuinely confused at Trish's reaction to Randy's perceived reacton.

"That doesn't mean I don't love him, or want him to think badly of me. I'm doing this so that we can both move on with our lives instead of making each other miserable all the time. I don't want to hurt him, especially not like this."

"Right. Makes perfect sense." Trish missed Candice rolling her eyes, and the slight smile that came to the corners of her mouth. "Look, go shower up. I will drive you to the arena where you can talk it out with your husband and kiss and make up with your son."

"I…can't. I can't face them now, Candice. Not after all this." Candice had never seen Trish looking so defeated, so bleak. Her friend had definitely changed over the years, and somehow everyone had missed it. Trish had always been a fighter and now she looked…well she looked just plain worn out. Perhaps then it would be up to Candice Michelle-Cena to remind this woman that she was indeed Trish _fuckin'_ Stratus and she faced the world head on without fear and kicked the ass of anyone who got in her way, herself included.

"Oh bullshit," Candice spat, physically dragging Trish up off the couch and pushing her toward the door. "Shower. Change. Fifteen minutes. Then we're going to the arena and you're going to deal with your shit Trish."

Like a chastised child, Trish bobbed her blonde head slowly in a slight nod and headed out of the office toward the showers, leaving Candice alone. The brunette former diva crossed her arms over her chest, trying to figure out exactly what to do.

There was no way she could talk to John about what she had just seen. Meaning to or otherwise, he would tell Randy and that would cause World War Three for everyone involved. She considered calling ahead and warning Orton that Parker was coming and not to listen to anything until Trish got there. Although knowing Randy that would just make him get the whole story out of his boy and be lying in wait for when the women got there. Dammit, why had Trish gone and made this more complicated than it needed to be?

At least she was sure of one thing, and that was Jeff Hardy had been right. The fact that Trish was so mortified over what had almost happened with her lawyer, and her flimsy excuse for divorcing Randy meant she still loved her husband. She had been isolated and given in to her loneliness, but at least the love that had made their marriage so strong existed as much now as it always had. That gave Candice hope that the cracks in their marriage could be repaired and the Ortons fixed before things got out of hand. It just meant the next part had to be handled delicately.

Digging her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, Candice retrieved her cellphone. Punching in a few commands, it autodialled and she held it to her ear. A few rings went by before the North Carolina drawl answered on the other end. Candice sighed as she recognised the recording inviting her to leave a message before the tone. Not exactly what she had wanted, but she could work with it nonetheless.

"Jeff, it's Candice. Listen I need you to call me back as soon as you get this. Operation China may have hit another complication. Call me."

Ending the call, Candice slipped her phone back into her jeans and headed for the exit. She only hoped that Parker could hold it together long enough for them to get to him first before he vented everything to his father. Somehow Candice knew that Parker would realise just what damage he could cause by blabbing. Trying to convince one half of the marriage to call off the divorce was tricky enough, there was no way they could convince Randy too if Parker did spill.

With a look of grim determination of her face, Candice headed to the shower rooms to round up Trish and get their show on the road before Parker single handedly ruined his parents' marriage for good.


	16. Let Your Head Go

**A/N: This update has been such a terribly long time in coming, I apologise to those of you who are still reading this story. I promise I will try and get the next chapter up sooner than this one. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. I disclaim, and I'd appreciate a review!**

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Randy thumbed his way through the bottom few pages of the slab of papers on his desk. Each one was coated with more legal garbage than the one before, none of them making clear sense other than what he already knew to be fact. His wife, love of his life and reason for believing the world was something other than a cold, shitty place wanted to end their marriage and she was saying it through the miles of technical legal vocabulary contained in the document in front of him.

The idea had slowly started to sink in now. Before it had seemed beyond incomprehensible that Trish would actually want this, much less it would actually become fact. Now that he'd had time to consider it, Randy realised that this was an ugly reality. He'd lost his girl, and now she was trying to make it official. He'd called his lawyers and some of the big wigs in WWE to read over the particulars of the proposed settlement to see if there was some legal way he could get out of it. Finding some loophole he could expose and exploit would give him the much needed breathing room in order to manoeuvre, to work out how to get his wife back. Much to his annoyance, that jock sniffing douchebag Troy had made the petition iron tight. He'd crossed every proverbial 't' and dotted the 'i's along with it. There was no legal way he could challenge this, other than fighting her in court, and really, if one party wanted out there wasn't much the other could do about it aside from drag his heels. Randy had literally been left with a crappy choice and an even crappier one and was struggling to find which way to turn.

On the one hand, he could sign on the dotted line and release his beautiful Canadian sweetheart. On the other, he could contest it through the courts and let the whole ugly affair drag on for the next eighteen months. He couldn't drag Trish through the gutter like that, much less put his children through the anguish of a bitter divorce battle between their parents. Randy easily knew that if he stretched this out over years of legal bickering, Trish would close her heart to him for good. Still, just signing his marriage away was not an option. He had to get Trish back; it was the only viable way he could see the world not ending through the stroke of a pen.

The question was how to do it. For a brief moment at Riley's party, Randy had gotten through to Trish. She loved him, he felt it as strongly as he did when they'd walked down the aisle together and it had given him a firm resolve. He just needed to remind Trish of that, to make amends for his past mistakes and transgressions and build a new life together. They couldn't fix what had happened, couldn't be again what they were, but perhaps starting over was a better choice given how they had drifted. They weren't the same people who'd said their vows, so now it was time to work out what it meant for these two people to be married under new terms rather than being bound by the Randy and Trish love story of two decades ago.

In his heart, Randy knew it was just a matter of convincing Trish of these facts, but she'd gotten so good at blocking him out now that he didn't know where to begin. In one particularly dark moment, he'd considered going to Hardy to ask him his advice. He'd known Trish longer, had loved her before Randy had had the chance to. Perhaps he had some insight that Randy didn't, but pride and more importantly faith in his own connection to his wife stopped him from asking. Randy assured himself that he knew Trish better than anyone else, so if anybody was going to figure a way to get through to her then it was going to have to be him. Randy just wished he was better at dealing with all this crap than he was. It was no secret that he wasn't exactly the best when it came to controlling his emotions, and that would only make his task harder if he couldn't verbalise how he felt to the person who right now needed to hear it, and more importantly feel it, the most.

The tap at the door to his office disturbed him from his brooding. Clearing his throat, Randy tucked the divorce papers into the top drawer of his desk and looked up, calling for whomever it was to enter. A familiar, grizzled pierced face poked around the door, the fingers that held the door open proudly spelled drug free and Randy was glad that it was only Punk. Despite being polar opposites in the early days of their career, after a decade or so of being rivals the two men had come to develop an understanding. Punk was as tenured a ring veteran as Randy was, and he was always being pestered by the new 'hip' kids breaking into the business. Randy assumed it was one of those same kids that had Punk at his door now, wanting a try out and having to run it by Randy first. He could already feel the first throb of what he now called his 'disappointment' headache at having to sit through another talentless match and Punk's acerbic jibes from the side at realising he'd been had by some talent-deficient nobody from Nowheresville.

"Randy, man you need to get out to the parking lot." Punk said, more agitated than Randy had probably ever seen the man. "Your kid is freaking out, like having a breakdown or some shit."

That was all it took and Randy was on his feet, ignoring the twinges of pain and years old injuries that made any movement nowadays painful. He dashed to the door, following Punk out through the arena to the main doors where the parking lot connected to the back of the arena. His mind instantly travelled to Riley, who had found him before and had come to cry on his shoulder over splitting with her idiot boyfriend. She was prone to emotional outbursts like he was, although she'd seemed a little more together if lying through her perfect smile last time they'd talked at her party. Instead, he got more of a surprise when he found the wild eyed, feral figure of his son pounding the holy hell out of a dumpster with his hands and his feet.

He stopped for a moment, transfixed by the fury that radiated off his son. Randy winced inwardly, feeling responsible for this terrible display of rage that was so like his own temper tantrums back in the day. Both of his children seemed to have inherited his volatile temperament, although Parker was certainly taking it to an extreme he hadn't ever seen in his daughter. Parker's tears did little to soften the rage on his face, fuelled by what was clearly anguish.

Randy was moving then, brushing through the small ring of concerned onlookers who apparently didn't have the balls to approach the sixteen year old. Randy was glad that Punk had come, not daring to think about his son in such pain and dealing with it by himself. He was glad that Parker had come to him, even if he hadn't quite made it inside and continued to beat the living hell out of an inanimate object and that as his father, it was his responsibility to shoulder some of his son's burden.

Approaching Parker from behind, Randy waited for a break in the swinging fists before carefully encircling the raging form of his son in his arms. Parker struggled briefly, but finally went limp, perhaps recognising the strength in the embrace of his father or maybe just running out of emotion. Then the tears came harder, accompanied by taut sobs as Randy knew they would. Tears of pain, tears of guilt and frustration and even shame at the way he had exploded. It was tough having a devastating temper, especially when you were left to deal with the aftermath, something Randy knew only too well. How many times had he been left alone and in tears when his temper had gotten the better of him back in the day?

Randy merely held onto his son, hugging him from behind. A side look to Punk was all it took to get the other man to clear away the gawping crowd of wannabe wrestlers, leaving father and son alone in the parking lot completely as Punk's chastising comments emptied the lot almost instantly.

They sank to the ground together; Parker safely wrapped in his father's arms, leaning against him between Randy's parted legs. Every now and again, the teenager trembled, accompanied by a hard sob as the wake of his torrent of emotions worked its way out of his system completely. For Randy's part, he simply held onto Parker gently but firmly, letting his son ride out the waves of anger as he softly stroked the boy's hair and whispered murmured affirmations into his ear that he was going to be alright, that he was here and above all Parker was safe. There was no awkwardness about the two men embracing so openly, as their bond transcended all concerns of masculinity and ego. Parker was his son, his own flesh and blood and it tore him to pieces to see his body in that much pain. He would hold his son tightly in the middle of the ring in front of thousands of fans if that's what it took to make Parker feel okay again.

Eventually Parker seemed to cry it all out, merely resting against his father and staring out into the middle distance without seeing anything at all. Randy knew better than to poke at the fresh wound, instead he merely helped Parker back to his feet again and carefully guided him to his car. Planting a kiss on the crown of his son's head, Randy took off into a sprint back to arena, wanting to minimize the time Parker was left alone as much as he could. Despite the tightness in his lower back and the raw ache of his knees, Randy ran faster than he had in a long time and retrieved his car keys, shouting an order for Punk to see things through for the rest of the afternoon before he took off back to his son's side.

Parker was exactly how and where he had been left, enabling Randy to ease him into the passenger seat of the unlocked car and strap him safely in. He was oddly reminded of performing a similar activity when Parker had been a baby, securely locking him into his child car seat, only then Trish had been with him, fussing over getting Riley properly seated as well. It seemed little had changed in their relationship, just a few important people weren't here right now. Pushing the thoughts and the sting of emotions they called to the side, Randy joined his son in the car and started driving.

The journey remained wordless almost entirely. Randy glanced to his side every now and again, watching the emotions play over Parker's face as he seemed to inwardly wrestle with something monumental. Randy couldn't tell what the issue was, or which side was winning out, only that Parker seemed to have arrived a form of a resolution as he pulled his car into a dive of a restaurant he spotted on the way into town. Parker needed a little more gentle coaxing to get out of the car and into the restaurant, but they were seated soon enough. Thankfully they'd missed the lunchtime rush so that Randy's order of gigantic cheese burgers and more fries than the entire locker room could eat arrived fairly quickly. He emptied fries onto a plate and nudged a few burgers on too before gently pushing it toward his almost catatonic son. Both men stared at the plate, and Randy only realised he'd been holding his breath as his lungs began to protest. Just when he thought he would pass out from the lack of oxygen, Randy exhaled slowly as Parker moved on auto-pilot and reached for the plate, shovelling handfuls of food into his mouth.

Randy breathed a sigh of relief. This had been a longshot, but he knew that if Parker were anything like him, being that angry even for a short amount of time would make him ravenous. Feeding Randy had always been Trish's best weapon to help regain a sense of equilibrium after such a violent outpouring of fury. Well, that and good old fashioned sweaty, naked, pound-the-holy-hell-out-of-the-headboard-sex. That worked too, although he was glad Parker was satiated by the former. He merely watched his boy chew on the food, drink deeply from the large glass of soda and eat some more. The elder Orton snagged the occasional fry out of what was left, but he wasn't particularly hungry. His stomach turned over in painful waves, a reaction he always seemed to get whenever his children were distressed. It must have been an inbuilt parent thing, but Randy could never do normal things like eating when his children were in pain. For someone who struggled to verbalise what he was feeling, Randy felt things so deeply sometimes it scared him.

Parker had seemingly had his fill as he pushed the plate away and sank back into his seat, his back curved so that his chin could rest sullenly on his chest. Randy left him that way for a moment, basking in the moment after refuelling whilst he sipped at his own beverage.

"You want to come see the show tonight?" He enquired after a while. "It's non televised, more of a try out for some of the new boot camp lot." Managing his son's expectations would be important. He didn't want Parker to be disappointed by showing up for a barnyard suck-fest instead of a championship battle. "Could be fun, though. Might be time to hang out with the boys afterwards, if you're up for it?"

His son shrugged his shoulders. Usually an opportunity to hang out with some of the wrestlers after a show would have the boy panting like an overexcited puppy presented with a new chew toy. The fact that it barely penetrated the stone cold shell coaxed an eyebrow further up Randy's forehead than was comfortable or even normal. This was monumentally bad.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Randy asked finally, sensing his attempt to revealing the cause of his son's outburst earlier by approaching gently from the side wasn't going to get him anywhere anytime soon. Direct approach it was, then.

"No." It was the first word Parker had said since Randy had discovered him earlier, and it was more of a grunt on an exhale of breath than a response.

Randy took another sip from his drink. "Not really a request, son." He wasn't big on pulling the parent card, he usually left that side of the job to his wife, but now he would have to be a little authoritarian as Parker wasn't going to open up willingly. Even though Trish had always been the better disciplinarian than him, at least both of his children knew that when their father wanted an explanation there really wasn't any other choice but to give him one.

Parker shifted uncomfortable in his seat, twisting a red paper napkin between his hands. On the one hands, he felt that his father deserved to know. He deserved to know that his wife, the idol of his entire world was a lying, cheating, whoring bitch who was screwing around behind his back. Just thinking of those words in relation to his beautiful mother made Parker feel sick and murderous at the same time. He had never felt so disappointed in his entire life, so much so he still could fathom the extent of this feeling of betrayal. He'd heard people talking of a hole in their centre when people betrayed them, well Parker felt as though someone had removed his entire torso and he was nothing more than a collection of limbs stringed up by rage.

"No," he said again, forming the letters better now. "I don't want to talk about it." His voice was ragged and splintered from the howling he'd done earlier, as though he were speaking through broken glass. Truthfully, Parker desperately wanted to talk about it, if only to ease his suffering and not betray his mother. However he knew the damage it would do to his father. He may as well break out an elephant shot gun and take aim at his heart for the resulting wounding. He couldn't deliver the shot, even if he felt his father should know. Dimly, Parker wondered if some sliver of loyalty to his mother prevented it as well, although he desperately doubted it.

What he hadn't counted on of course, was the look of disappointment that flashed through his father's eyes. It must be difficult for him to take, knowing that his only son couldn't be honest with him. That was the difficult thing about the truth of course, it was a double edged sword. He could be honest, betray his mother and devastate his father in equal measure. Or he could lie, hurt his father and let his mother get away with being a lying, cheating whore. Sometimes being a teenager sucked major ass.

Randy was clever enough to banish the expression, hoping Parker hadn't seen it. "Hey," he said softly, waiting for Parker to maintain eye contact, "you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Right," Parker repeated dully, pushing a fry around his plate. Was it really right to keep this out of Randy's knowledge? Was it even his place to consider coming forth with that sort of information?

"I'm serious, man. Whatever relationship I may have had with my dad growing up, I always knew I could go to him about stuff. Anything." Randy waited for Parker to spill, but he could see it wasn't going to be forthcoming. "Are you in trouble at school?" Parker shook his head. "Failing some classes?" Again, the head shake. So it wasn't academic. Randy decided to take a different focus. "You break up with some girl?" Parker rolled his eyes at that one. "You break up with some guy?"

"Dad!" Parker half gasped, half choked, sitting bolt upright in his seat. "I am totally, completely, one hundred and ten per cent into girls."

Randy could only chuckle softly at the scandalized look on his son's face. He had a pretty good clue that his son wasn't into guys, not that it would matter if he was. Somehow Randy couldn't imagine anything taking the shine away from his children's perfection. Still, at least he had confirmation and the line of questioning had pulled Parker out of his misery.

"Hey, I had to ask the question. Is it drugs, then? Alcohol?" Parker shook his head, the twinge of a smile coming to the corners of his mouth. Inwardly, Randy breathed a sigh of relief. The ice was starting to melt around the boy now, the tension in his neck ebbing and flowing away. "You get a girl pregnant?"

"Hell, no!" Parker spluttered. "No glove, no love!" Randy had to admit that it was a sound disclaimer, but there was something inherently wrong about even considering his son getting balls deep in some chick, even if he was sheathed.

"Safe sex, I approve." Randy smiled over his coke. "Although I suppose I should say something about only being with a girl your truly love not just because she's got great tits." Parker was chuckling softly now, his boyish face not so weighed down by the shadows of whatever it was that had been bothering him. "Although you've got your mother for that stuff, she always was better at that sort of thing."

Instantly, Randy knew he was on the money. At the mere mention of Trish, Parker immediately stiffened. Rage and pain permeated the air in equal measure. So clearly what it was had to be connected to Trish. Worry and concern cut Randy deeply, wondering if his relationship with his wife was that damaged that she couldn't even tell him if something was seriously wrong. It was one of those hysterical moments where all manners of terrors rushed through Randy's mind. Injury, financial ruin, terminal illness were all highlights to his horrors, but he stuck them behind a mask of rationality for the time being.

"Parker," Randy began evenly, cradling his glass of soda. "If there's something going on with your mother, you know you can tell me. I…I'd like to know." It was difficult saying as much to his son, but if Parker was the only way he was going to get information, then Randy was fully prepared to use the method.

For his part, Parker squirmed in his seat more uncomfortably than a rapist on a busy night. Once upon a time, his father had been referred to as the Apex Predator of WWE. He had a knack of zoning right in to where he needed but really should go. "There's nothing wrong," Parker managed in a strangled voice, desperately thinking of a way out of this. He couldn't destroy his father so carelessly by admitting his mother's infidelity, no matter what the patriarchal Orton said.

"Parker," a warning coloured Randy's voice this time, as his hands clenched into loose fists that rested on the table.

"What happened between you and mom?" Parker blurted, the first string of his words taking form and firing at his father like arrows.

Randy couldn't have flinched more had Parker slapped him. "I…we…it's…it's complicated, Parker."

"Complicated how?" Parker insisted, hating that he'd made his father feel uneasy but glad to be free of the probing. "I don't understand what happened, why you guys act like you're not a part of each other's lives anymore."

A dejected sigh escaped Randy's lips. "It really is complicated, son. I don't mean that as a cop out, it's just…"

"She cries, y'know." Parker didn't care that he was interrupting. Words he hadn't known had been bubbling under the surface just escaped faster than he could catch them. "For a while it was every single night. She'd think we couldn't hear her, but we could. She still does cry, mostly when you're around." Randy was shocked into silence, aware that his mouth hung open as he processed what was being said. Trish, his baby girl, cried? Because of him? Still? On the one had he couldn't bear the thought of the love of his life being in any kind of pain especially if he as the cause. On the other, it felt almost good to know that Trish still did have feelings for him, even if it was in a twisted, difficult way.

"Riley hates mom because of it," Parker continued. "She can be really vile to her, all because she's scared that she's the reason that you two aren't together anymore. For some reason that makes her take it out on mom. I guess it's because you're not around for her to direct it at." Parker shrugged his shoulders, wondering if maybe he was partly trying to justify what he had seen his mother doing earlier. "Mom does her best to take it on the chin, but I know what Riley says really hurts her."

"Parker…I had no idea," Randy admitted, letting his head sink into his hands for a moment. What was he supposed to do with this information? Continue a selfish, illogical battle to keep a woman whose life he had made a misery? To continue torturing his children with spectre of parents who couldn't even be in the same room as one another? Perhaps as a family, they needed an end to all the suffering. And now that he thought about it, Randy couldn't be sure that desperately hanging onto Trish and pulling on her heartstrings was the way to give them all what they needed.

Parker sighed, realising how fully and completely he had shit on the mood. He carried on regardless however, having the most real conversation he'd had with his father in years. "I guess we're fighting through it all, although I wonder sometimes if it will get better…or what better would even mean for us." Randy glanced up, seeing in his son a reflection of maturity that he hadn't obtained until his early thirties. Clearly, it had skipped a generation. Here he was trying to think of schemes to keep Trish with him, all the while his courageous son had no way to know how to heal from the damage he had caused.

"I think I'd like to go home, now." Parker admitted, already shuffling out of his seat to head back to the car. He hadn't meant to go this far, although he couldn't feeling cleansed at the release of it all.

"Yeah, okay." Randy made no effort to move as Parker headed out of the restaurant to cry silently at the car, silently glad that there would be no more heart shattering revelations today. By the time Randy arrived at the car, Parker would have already dried his tears and returned to his near vegetative state.

Randy had often wondered what it would feel like to finally give up on his marriage, to be faced with the knowledge that his love wasn't enough to keep Trish in his life. Perhaps he wasn't worth of her after all, and it couldn't be fair to keep her trapped in this spiral of misery. Once upon a time, he could have convinced himself that it was for the greater good, and that he and his wife were as meant to be today as they were nearly twenty years ago when they had started dating. They were different people then, living different lives that those they lead today. More importantly, they had other people they were responsible for, two beautiful children who were suffering because they couldn't love each other in the way they were supposed to.

As he signed his name on the bill, Randy realised that this wouldn't be the last thing he signed today. He pushed his way through the glass doors and headed back to the car, knowing in the rapidly cooling depths of his heart that he was going to sign the divorce papers and give his family the closure they all seemed to despairingly need.


	17. Discoveries

**A/N: What's this? Another update? And in the same month?! Yes, it's true I've been busy at work with this story. I'm really inspired by it at the moment, saw an angle that I hadn't really considered when I first wrote it which just makes the whole thing more exciting, to me at least. I realised earlier this week that we're coming up to the sixth anniversary of when this story was originally published. Six years really is far too long to have a story hanging around, so it is my intention to get this one wrapped up before it hits six years old. Wish me luck! Originally, this chapter and the next were one but by the time I finished writing it was over ten thousand words so I've split it in two. I'll edit the next chapter soon and hopefully get it up by the end of the week so you won't have to wait too long! In the meantime, if you're still reading after all these years, I would really love a review! I disclaim.**

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Sliding the last clip into the back of hair, Riley sighed as she studied her reflection. In years gone by, it had always been a period of excitement getting dressed up for the annual Vince McMahon Charity Benefit, something she and her mother had always shared together, almost like a ritual. For some reason, this year she was absolutely dreading the entire affair.

It wasn't just because her mother wasn't part of her preparations this year. In fact, Riley had insisted that she and Melody be left to their own devices in getting ready. It had clearly hurt her mother, to be pushed out of this special time, but honestly Riley wasn't concerned with her mother's bruised ego. It was more the fact that things were going on with her family, things that were keeping them apart and making an entire atmosphere of unhappiness. Parker had been miserable for days, locking himself in his room and pretty much refusing to communicate. Her mother seemed tense, checking on Parker obsessively and acting as though she were going to be arrested at any minute. Even her father had been keeping his distance, which whilst not unusual, didn't normally happen around this event. If there was one evening that she could guarantee the Ortons would at least play at happy families, it was this one.

Riley knew something was going on with the rest of her family, something she was not privy to, and that was probably what was making her feel so nauseous about the whole thing. Sighing at her reflection again, she wondered if maybe she should feign illness and just not go. At least that way she wouldn't have to put up with the false smiles and questions from people in the wrestling industry who acted as though she should remember their faces and names and the familial bond they shared even know they could have been a hobo off the street for all Riley knew. Everyone seemed to know who she was, but outside the small group of her parent's friends, she didn't really know the rest of the old school superstars. The expectation however, would always be something else.

From behind her, Melody re-entered the room, fussing with the neckline of her dress. It was halter in style, plunging quite dangerously in the front to match the backless element. The subtle shade of green really brought out Melody's paleness, and her dark hair hung in beautiful half crescent curls all around her face. She was easily the most beautiful person Riley knew, and could already guess the reception she was going to get from the room full of testosterone.

Across the room, Melody caught Riley's eyes. "I can't stop shitting," came her simple explanation as she came back in from her millionth exit from Riley's bedroom. Clearly somebody was feeling just a little nervous, although Riley couldn't help but grimace at the description.

"There is something known as 'too much information', you know," she smiled at her friend, who took a seat on the edge of Riley's bed.

"Not when you're best friends, there's not." Melody shrugged, crossing one snow white leg across the other. The way her hands continually clenched and unclenched made it clear that Melody was nervous, and probably craving a cigarette. Not that Riley had a problem with her friend smoking but the last thing she needed was her mother sounding off about that. For all intents and purposes, her friend looked like someone resigned to being forced off to the gallows for a hideous crime of revenge.

Riley moved across the room and lowered herself carefully onto the bed next to her friend. "You look miserable, Dee." Melody turned a weak smile up at her friend. "What's getting you down? Jared not being a good friend with benefits at the moment?"

"Nothing like that," she responded, looking absently out the window towards the darkening night sky.

"Then what is it?" Riley nudged her friend carefully with her shoulder. "You've had a face like a thunderstorm rain cloud for days. Something is bothering you, clearly."

Melody sighed heavily, obviously weighing up whether or not it was a good idea to share what was going on in her brain with her best friend. One side won out as she turned a little more to face Riley. "It's just I really don't want to go to this thing tonight. It'll be a room filled with crippled, stuffy old guys who used to be famous for falling off ladders and stuff like that. I'm just going to be bored and by myself whilst they jizz their pants over you and I won't know anybody else to talk to."

"Well, that's not exactly true." Riley offered, clasping her friend's hand in her lap. It was true she'd desperately wanted Melody to come because she no longer had a date to take with her, but she certainly didn't want her to be miserable the entire time. "You'll know me and Parker and my parents, plus Maddy will be there too. And I know Lucas is looking forward to seeing you."

Her friend stiffened instantly, turning a wary eye on her friend. "How do you know that? Did he say something?" Riley nodded, unable to contain the smile from her face. Her oldest friend had been in constant text contact, desperate to confirm that Melody would be attending the event. Clearly, the boy had it bad. "That's what I was afraid of." Melody said, glumly staring down at her tiny feet as they poked out from beneath her dress.

"Come on Melody, Lucas is a great guy and you know it. Plus I think he has a little thing for you. Well, a big thing actually." This had no effect on Melody, who only chewed on her bottom lip. A different approach was needed it, seemed. " I saw him coming out the showers once at summer camp and his towel slipped. There is nothing remotely small about that boy anywhere on his body. Hadn't even finished growing then, either."

Melody groaned, collapsing back on the bed to cover her face with her arms. Now Riley really was confused. Her friend usually revelled in discussing the length of the members on the guys she had slept with. The fact that Lucas was all chiselled muscle and hung like a donkey should have set the girl off at a whippet in a kennel race, but instead she was getting nothing back. In actual fact, Melody seemed even more miserable than ever.

Carefully, Riley laid down next to her friend, propping her head up with her hand. "Seriously Dee, what is going on here? Luke has been texting me almost hourly to check you are coming. Was that thing you guys had at my party more serious than you let on?"

"For him, maybe." Melody grumbled from behind her hands. Riley could just make out an eye between the gaps that swivelled in her direction. "Okay, okay. Maybe for me too. He is stunning and he got me all hot and bothered without really doing anything and that terrifies me."

"Terrifies you?" Riley nearly shrieked, aghast at this changed woman lying in the bed next to her. "Aren't you always the one calling guys in high school disappointing and weak and unimpressive down below? Most girls would give their right boob to get a chance with Lucas and you're telling me you're terrified?"

"Stop judging me!" Melody wailed, rolling herself onto her side to face Riley. "I can't cope being this hot for a guy, okay? I'm used to being attracted to them and wanting to rip their clothes off but that's always been it. They're always the one willing to do whatever I say to get a taste of Melody Land." Riley groaned at the pet name Melody had given for her vagina. "But this time, it's different. I am so hot for him that I know I would literally do anything he wanted just so I could get him out of his clothes. I'm not used to being in this position and it scares me. And if you laugh at me right now I will shave off you eyebrows and stick them to your upper lip whilst you sleep. You'll spend the next month walking around looking like a French mime artisit!"

Riley chuckled at the mental image, but squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Hey, Lucas isn't like that. He would never, ever put pressure on you or force you into doing something you weren't comfortable with."

"It's not that I think he would," Melody confessed, wringing her hands in her lap, "it's just that I don't want to feel like he's got power over me. Saying it out loud makes it sound stupid, but I dunno Ri, it's very real to me. I don't ever want a guy to have that much of a hold over me."

"You don't sound stupid," Riley assured with her best winning smile, "and I get what you mean. Nobody else should dictate your happiness, right? I learned that the hard way with Jeremy, and you've never really been anything other than in control. It's understandable that you're nervous." Riley smiled at the outraged face Melody gave her. "But think of this as the beginning of something new. You don't have to take charge or be in control all the time. Give Lucas a chance to show you the kind of guy he is, I promise you'll love going along for the ride."

Melody arched an eyebrow, drawing more inference from the suggestion she go for a ride than Riley had originally intended. "So what do I say when I see him tonight? I assume he's going to be there…looking like a sex God in a tux."

"Yes, Lucas is going. As are his sister and his parents. I wouldn't worry too much about getting ravished by him. Just be yourself, and play it cool. You've already got Lucas where you want him, give him a chance to be the guy who's different to all the rest."

A suspicious look was shot Riley's way. "One might be forgiven for thinking you were trying to set your best friend up with your oldest friend. This was your brilliant plan all along, was it? Get me hooked on the Cena hunk so you get to play match maker?"

Riley smiled what she thought was an enigmatic one. "Let's just say I've always seen the potential in you two. I'm not going to force anything though. It'd be cool if you dated Lucas, but not because he's practically like a brother to me, but because I know he's an amazing dude and my best friend deserves nothing less than a guy who will treat her like a princess."

"Like a goddess," Melody corrected, a smile blossoming on her face.

"A goddess, then. Just come tonight, have a good time and support your loser, single, dumped best friend who is going to be poked and prodded all night by everyone who still remembers when she was this high and had the cutest under-bite."

"You had an underbite?" Melody smirked, leering closer as though she were a shark sensing blood.

"Not the point, all photo evidence has been destroyed so move it along, James." Melody merely nodded, and Riley just knew at some point she would catch her best friend snooping around her house looking for photographic imagery that proved the dental disaster she had once been afflicted with.

"We should be going," Melody admitted, glancing over to the clock hanging from Riley's wall. "I think I'm ready, you altogether now?" Riley nodded, but stopped as she noted Melody staring rather strangely at her. "Earrings, girlfriend. You need something that has the 'lick me all over' factor, you know?"

Absent-mindedly, Riley touched her hands to the lobes of her ears, realising they were bear. She didn't really have the jewellery that would complete her look tonight, but knew exactly where she could get her hands on a pair that did. "Good point. Meet you downstairs in five, I need to get some of the good stuff."

"Good luck," Melody offered, blowing Riley an air kiss before getting up off the bed and slipping out of the room.

Certain she was just about ready, Riley glanced toward the door as she heard Melody's gentle footfalls taking her down the stairs. If she was going to wear a pair of earrings that really set off her outfit, there was only one place she was going to get them. The den of the beast.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd done a little smash and grab of her mother's jewellery. The first few times, Trish had raised hell over her daughter sneaking in her room and raiding her private collection of diamonds and other inordinately expensive trinkets, mostly purchases by her father, that could feed a small country. Besides, Riley confidently reasoned as she slipped out of her door and across the landing towards her mother's room, as the years had gone on Trish had relented and usually commented that the offending item looked better on her daughter than it did on her anyway. What would be the harm in borrowing a little something tonight?

As if the afore mentioned Trish sensed what Riley was up to, her voice raised up through the stairwell from the bottom floor. _"Riley, sweetie, would you please hurry up and get down here! We need to be at the benefit like ten minutes ago!"_

"Yeah, yeah." Riley murmured, slipping through the door that lead to her mother's room and headed inside. The shard of light that illuminated the room enough for Riley to see where she was going led her to the dressing table that rested at the far centre of the room, directly in front of the massive windows. Her mother had always had a penchant for brightening a room, so it made sense she would park her tush in front of the window whilst preening every morning.

Her luxurious ball grown whispered around her heeled feet as she made her way to the top drawers. This year, Riley had opted for something a little more glamorous for the annual Vince McMahon Benefit Ball, eventually going with a one shoulder, light blue chiffon dress. It complimented her skin tone perfectly, as well as setting off her caramel coloured hair that she had pulled into a beautiful French Twist with curls at the top. She had the perfect silver bracelet to go with the dress, a gift from her godfather John Cena, but needed earrings. It made perfect sense to Riley that if she were going to wear a '_TAO'_ designed dress, then her mother could also provide the accessories to go with her hand drawn design.

Riley went for the top drawer of the dresser, knowing that was where Trish stored the expensive items. She was surprised to find a collection of gold bracelets and rings that were usually stored lower down. Her mouth curled into a sneer as she realised her mother was getting a little wiser to her schemes. She might be easily defeated once Riley had the bling on, but she wasn't going to make it easy for her to find. Of course hiding the jewellery wasn't her mother's best plan, because now Riley would have no choice but to find what she was looking for and paw through the entire desk if necessary.

She had exhausted almost every single draw before coming to the final one in the middle of the desk. It was the widest of all the compartments, usually reserved for a few trinkets and her grandmother's jewellery that she had passed down to her daughter. Riley smiled softly a she remembered the matriarchal Stratus, and her gentle lavender scent. She almost expected to smell that calming aroma as she pulled the drawer open, but of course it had long since faded from the items contained within. Still, the memory of the scent was powerful enough to let Riley almost believe that she could indeed smell her grandmother again.

_Clunk._

Riley frowned as she heard the thud of something heavy from within, and curiously pulled the drawer open further. A quick check of a plain clasped box revealed what she as looking for as a myriad of diamonds glittered from withing, but the young Orton was convinced that it could not have been this that had made the thudding noise. Deliberately jarring the drawer forward, Riley heard another _clunk_ in the same vein as the first. An eyebrow arched on her forehead, she pulled the drawer out completely, perplexed as to the cause of the mysterious sound.

Pulling it out of the desk, Riley's eyes were drawn to the corner of the drawer. Apparently, it had a false bottom, because pressing down on the opposite end caused it to pop up ever so slightly. Gently removing the contents, Riley lifted the false base out enough to see the secret second layer. Clearly her mother hadn't closed it properly, allowing the contents beneath to slide around and make enough noise to draw attention. A prickle of apprehension wandered up her neck as she wondered whether she should really be poking around in her mother's most private of areas, particularly as this was the most secret of places that Riley hadn't even known existed. Unfortunately, Riley couldn't stop now that she started. The false bottom was removed, and placed carefully against the dresser as she spied the contents it kept hidden.

A collection of letters were bound together with softening pink ribbon. A quick glance at the handwriting on the envelope and Riley knew these letters had come from her father. Love letters, most likely, from the days he was on the road and her mother was at home working on her business. Curiosity wasn't enough to tempt Riley into prying through their heartfelt expressions of love so she pushed them aside, knowing they hadn't made the noise and wouldn't be worth the therapy bill for reading them. They had been resting on an envelope however, plain and unsealed, and it immediately spiked her interest. As though she were handling the most priceless crystal in the world, Riley risked a glance behind her at the door before lifting the envelope free. A thick document was contained within, bound together she noted, as she peered through the open lip. A few loose sheets were slipped in the front, which she carefully removed, each caress of paper against paper sounding like Velcro being torn in the silence to her pounding ears.

She recognised the letter head immediately, it being of her mother's legal team. Was it a Last Will and Testament perhaps, or deeds to the multitude of properties that came under the _House of TAO _business banner? Her mother had her fingers in a lot of proverbial pies, so these could be anything really. The question was why had they been so meticulously hidden in this drawer? _Only one way to find out, _Riley reasoned, as she scanned the document quickly, mind reaching for the important parts of information.

Her blood ran immediately cold as a collection of words seemed to leap out at her, burning themselves on her eyes so that she would never unsee them. _'…your petition for divorce from Randal Keith Orton has been received by the Court of California and will be heard of March 16__th__ of this year."_

**Petition.  
For.  
Divorce. **

Each word hit Riley like a freight train, forcing her to grasp the desk for fear of slipping to the floor. She was convinced she'd made a noise when the words registered in her brain, but so far no sounds of feet ascending the stairs reached her ears. Divorce? As in the official dissolution of the marriage and carrying on with separate lives? What was her stupid, selfish, idiot of a mother doing? With a trembling hand, Riley placed it on her chest above her heart, feeling the blood pounding unmercifully quickly.

There was more to come. _'Pending the outcome of this preliminary hearing, the Court will also grant your request for a hearing regarding the full custody of minors Riley Kendall and Parker Addison Orton on April 9__th__ of this year."_

A bunch of words came after, ones Riley neither understood nor cared to. The facts were as plain as day. Her mother was trying to end her marriage to her father, and to take both Riley and Parker with her when she did so. It wasn't enough that she was trying to crush her father's heart, but now she wanted to splinter their family for good? To steal his children away from him? Why the hell would Trish even want full and sole custody anyway? Why couldn't and shouldn't Randy have the chance to be the one to have custody? They were his children too!

_Divorce. Custody_. Riley had always known things weren't getting better between her parents, and had put the hopes of a reconciliation of some sort as a dim and distant dream, but this was beyond serious. This was disastrous and inhumanly hurtful. Trish Orton was a homewrecker and a heartless witch and Riley would not, and could not stand for it.

What would her father do when he found out what his wife was doing? How much would it kill him to know she was leaving for good and trying to take the children with him? What could have possessed her mother to be so dark and hurtful as to try and succeed on a mission like this? Would she actually tell them what she was planning to do, or let them all find out when the court date finally rolled around?

"_Riley Kendall Orton! If you don't get down these stairs in the next ten second, so help me God I will march up there and drag you down myself!"_

The yell of her mother from the bottom of the stairs made Riley startle. Quickly smoothing the papers back into the envelope, she risked a glance at the thick bound document, her worst fears being realised that it was labelled as the afore mentioned petition for divorce. Hysterically, Riley thought about removing it and throwing it into a fire, but knew it would do little good. The court had seen the original, this was just for Trish's own records. The proverbial ball had been set into motion and her mother seemed hell bent on getting what she wanted at the expense of the feelings of everyone else. Carefully sliding the envelope back in, Riley replaced the false drawer bottom and quickly pushed everything inside. Snagging a pair of earrings from the box, she slammed the drawer back in and bolted for the door just as she heard her mother start on the first step.

With trembling hands, Riley affixed the jewellery as she slipped out of her mother's room, nearly stumbling as she walked across the curve the second floor to the top of the stairs. Below, Trish Orton stood, looking stunning in a strapless silver, ruche pleated mermaid gown. Her hourglass shape was shown off to perfection, and she easily passed for a woman a decade younger than she actually was. The fact that she could stand there, so casually, looking to the whole world like her biggest concern at the moment was the tardiness of her daughter threatened to make Riley vomit. She had seen what her mother had concealed in the drawer upstairs, a damning set of papers that would ruin them all. Nausea pounding at her stomach, bile stinging the back of her throat, Riley grasped hold of the banister in order to make it safely down the stairs.

From the bottom, Trish eyed her daughter suspiciously. Despite her creamy coloured skin, Riley looked whiter than the first snowfall of a Canadian winter. The way she measured each step as she took it, planting her feet tentatively as though she were afraid to fall instantly made Trish worry. Something was wrong.

"Riley sweetheart, are you okay?" Her daughter nodded blankly, the cold numbness of disbelief preventing her from screaming the house down at her mother's betrayal. She had no words, couldn't even articulate basic feelings at the shock at what she had discovered upstairs. Even if she could process it, she could never explain it. "Baby, what's the matter?"

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Trish reached to place a concerned hand on Riley's shoulder. Her reaction made Mrs. Orton squeak with surprise as Riley recoiled as though she had been confronted with a poisonous animal. In many ways, Riley felt as though she had been. Clearly the title viper had wrongly been applied to her father from the way she viewed her mother. Deceitful, wounding and dangerous. There was nobody who fitted the bill better now. A poisonous serpent slithering at the very heart of the Orton family.

"I'm fine," Riley spat, marching past her mother towards the open door. "No need to have a prolapse over it. I'm going to the car because we're going to be late. You can do whatever the hell you please." Without another word, Riley stepped outside and walked directly to the waiting limousine.

An evening of talking, dancing and sharing memories all in aid of a good cause really was the last place she wanted to be tonight. With what she learned, Riley needed time away someplace safe and quiet where she could process what this divorce would mean and exactly what depths her spiteful mother would sink to in order to ruin her father. There would be no way to hold it together until the end of the night, and really, Riley wasn't sure she wanted to.

Trish watched as her daughter trotted down the path and into the waiting car, pressing her hand to her stomach to contain the urge to sob at the backlash from her little girl. Even by Riley's standards, that reaction had been almost psychotic. It wasn't anything knew for her teenage daughter to fly off the handle for no reason, much less take out any and all frustrations against her, but this was something else. For a moment, Trish pondered what had caused this volatile change. It what might have been the most terrifying heartbeat of her life since her daughter was born, Trish genuinely wondered if Parker had told his older sister exactly what he had walked in on at the yoga studio that day.

Ever since that fateful weekday, Parker had changed. He'd come home later that evening, stomping through the door and retreating to his room. Trish had recognised the retreating car of Randy, and wondered if Parker had told him everything. He had every right to, she supposed, and dreaded what would happen next. There was no reprisal however, no word from Randy, and she'd barely seen her son since he'd come home. Perhaps he hadn't told his father, but that didn't mean Parker still couldn't. Late at night, she swore she could hear her baby boy sobbing, but couldn't get through the locked door to be with him. It cut her to ribbons to know that she had caused such heartache in her boy, not to mention she couldn't fix it. Had it become too much for the sixteen year old, so much so that he'd confided in his sister. Was that why Riley was on doomsday mode? For a moment, Trish followed the path where her daughter had walked with her eyes, and wondered whether or not she should sit this one out. Her children were in pain, and if she was the cause, perhaps as far away from them was the best place to me. She couldn't seem to do right for doing wrong, and genuinely wondered if perhaps her children would be better off without her in their lives.

Mentally shaking herself, Trish headed for the door and pulled it to a locked close behind her. She was a mother. There was no choice other than to let her children know she was there for them, even if they didn't want to see her. Perhaps her quiet presence would be enough, even if it was just so could they vent at her if it became too much. She would take whatever they could dish out, because that was part of being a parent. And maybe, given what Parker knew, she deserved just a little roasting for her appallingly bad choices of late.

She wandered down the steps, glancing back at the house partly to make sure everything was closed and locked securely, but also to reminisce. Once upon a time, those four walls had a been a beacon of happiness for her children and her loving husband. Things had change, and now it was nothing more than a cold sterile reminder that they weren't a unit anymore.

Sliding into the car, Trish noted with some dismay that her children were sat at the far end. Parker had wrapped his arms around himself, glaring out of the window but looking every inch the prince in his expensive suit. If he was aware of the women sat around him, he certainly didn't show it. Riley simply stared impassively into the middle distance, not seeing anything at all. There was something wrong, but for whatever reason, she wasn't prepared to share it. As far as Melody was concerned, she sat at Riley's side and looked as nervous as a convict on the run. Her eyes darted about everywhere whilst her hands fiddled with the hem of her skirt. Something had apparently set her off this evening, too.

The silence was oppressive, with nobody acknowledging the others much less looking at one another. Trish signed deeply, knowing full well that this was probably going to be the longest, most uncomfortable car journey of her entire life. She only hoped it would be over soon so she could get to the event and get her hands on something cold and alcoholic before one of both of her children decided their only option was to murder Trish where she sat.


	18. Pipe Bomb!

**A/N:**** Another update for your reading please. I probably won't get to update again before the weekend as I have a hectic week, but after reading through and editing this chapter, I decided to put it up now. There's **_**a lot**_** going on in this one, I hope it's not too full to follow and worth the read. I've wanted to write this scene for six years it seems, so I hope you all enjoy it.**

**debbbrown1 – Thank you for all your reviews! An interesting idea you had for their reconciliation! I don't think this chapter will be what you were hoping for, but it ain't over till the fat lady sings! Randy and Trish are my favourite pairing in the world, believe me!**

**Shannygoat – I cannot express how happy it made me to know that you'd read the chapter, not to mention that you've left a review too! It's been far too long my friend, and I'm so glad that you're still reading!**

**Thoughts in Chaos – Completely agree my dear, I would love to slap Riley silly. With a wet fish. Give it a couple more chapters and hopefully little miss Orton will have the chance to redeem herself in your eyes. I promise you she's not all bad, she's just hideous towards her mother right now. Thank you for taking the time to review, it means a lot, and I can't wait to see your thoughts on one particular aspect of this chapter based on one of your reviews. **

**To everyone reading out there, thank you for sticking it out, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I disclaim! If you're readin', get to reviewin' pretty please with semi-nude Randy Ortons on top!**

* * *

Even after all these years, Randy could physically feel it when his wife was in the same room as him. Glancing up from his seat at the bar, he spotted Trish walking into the room looking every inch the Golden Hollywood Years movie star. Her dress was exquisite, as was the body he knew rested beneath. Her luxurious mane of blonde hair was pinned up and to her head, exposing the sensitive spots of her neck. Randy knew from full experience how wild he could drive his wife from kissing her there. At previous McMahon benefits, it had been something of a game, seeing who could drive whom to distraction by casually kissing, touching and stroking secretly sensitive areas. Randy almost always won, and his reward was a deeply erotic, frenzied coupling somewhere in the back of the venue where Trish grabbed him like it was their last ever chance to get physical.

There would be no such unions tonight however, he knew, and instead turned his attention to the venue for this year's benefit. The room usually used as a small theatre had become resplendent with elegance. The red carpet that led in from the doors came to join in the star shape that spread out from the centre of the room. Gold chandeliers drifted down from the ceiling, sending flickering light throughout the space and highlight the stage where a full scale orchestra played appropriately suited music. Everything was accented in gold, from the table trims to the cutlery and even the bow ties on the band players. The room was practically filled to capacity with suit wearing well to dos, and evening dress clad beauties. It was an even everyone looked forward to, raising money for charity in memory of the Evil Genius who had put wrestling on the map, Vince McMahon. Each year the event seemed to grow more opulent, and this year was no exception.

If Trish noted the splendour of the room, she certainly didn't show it. Randy knew something was wrong from the way Trish shifted her weight from foot to foot, touched at her hair and bit down onto the left side of her bottom lip. All three were classic Trish Stratus tells that something was bothering her. Seeing three meant that it was obviously very serious.

It didn't take long to figure it out the cause of course, as his two children slunk into the room joined by Melody, immediately breaking off to go in their separate directions and as far away from Trish as seemed possible. Melody headed directly for the bar, Parker to the outside garden area and Riley for the bathroom. Had there been some sort of disagreement on the way here? Worse still, had his children somehow gotten wind of his acquiescence to Trish's divorce request? Were they feeling abandoned, or even unloved by their father? Would they even acknowledge him tonight if that was the case?

Forcing the thoughts into silence, Randy made a direct line for Trish. He had to get her alone to talk, to discuss the terms of their divorce and how they would break the news to the children. The Viper huffed in annoyance however and halted his progress as he noted that Jeff Hardy and his wife Lana were already at Trish's side, taking her by the elbow and guiding her elsewhere. Frowning, Randy looked to see where Parker was instead, maybe to even pick up their conversation from that day at the diner. He spotted his son, deep in discussion Punk's three boys. With his daughter apparently locked in the bathroom, Randy slowly lowered himself back into his seat at the bar, silently seething in his loneliness. All four members of the same family, broken and separated and not in the mood to speak to one another.

* * *

Riley sighed softly as she flushed the toilet and stepped out to look at the mirrors above the sinks. Thankfully she'd mastered the tears before more than three or four has betrayed her eyes, if only her mind was as easy. Her eyes looked glassy, but not obviously like she had been crying, but even she could see the strain around the edges. She carefully dabbed at her eyes in an effort to protect her eye make up, and wished that she could be anywhere but here. How in the hell could she face her father, knowing what she knew and be expected to keep it silent. Now that she had the car journey behind to think about it, there was no way Randy could be kept in the dark. The difficult question was, would she be the one to reveal all or should she at least give her mother the benefit of informing Randy of her plans herself?

Behind Riley, the flush of the toilet startled her. From behind a closed cubicle door appeared the softly smiling face of Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley, Chairwoman of World Wrestling Entertainment and the most powerful woman in all of Sports Entertainment. Age did little to diminish her angular beauty, and streaks of grey through her dark chocolate brown locks added a distinguished air that more than suited her. She certainly grown into a handsome older woman, and was rather attractive in her long sleeve black silk dress.

"Riley, how are you sweet pea? It's been forever." Riley allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace from the older woman. Riley had probably been entering puberty the last time she'd seen and spoken to Stephanie in the flesh, although she always sent cards and gifts at special occasions. Mostly at the McMahon memorial events, Riley and the other 'kids' sat at their own table away from the adults, so it seemed a little odd that this year she would be sat with them rather than the children.

"Aunt Steph," Riley replied, plastering a smile over her face that she really didn't feel at all, "it really has. How have you been? How are Uncle Hunter and the kids?"

Of course they weren't related, but most of the wrestling community that were familiar with her parents were viewed as aunts and uncles of various sorts. Lord knew the amount of people in the profession that stayed with them over the years when the company was in town made her familiar with successive rosters. Secretly, Riley had always thought that Stephanie enjoyed being Mother Hen to almost everyone in the extended WWE family, and probably enjoyed being addressed as 'aunt'.

"Oh, all fine. They're here somewhere, probably sneaking glasses of champagne." Stephanie nudged Riley in good nature, reminding her of the time she'd caught her snagging a glass from a nearby waiter. "I know they'd be thrilled to see you. How long has it been since you've seen them all together? Four, five years?"

Riley smiled kindly. "My sixth birthday party, I think? The twins were four then." Truth be told, Riley didn't even know what the McMahon-Helmsley brood looked like now. They rarely attended these events, mostly packed away at Boarding Schools, or so the explanations went. She'd always wondered why the grandchildren of the man they were here in honour of could never attend these events, but apparently term times were strict in such schools. The only pictures she had were from that birthday and they'd all aged considerably since then, so Riley could have literally fallen over them and not recognised any single one.

"Has it really been that long?" Stephanie inquired absently, her eyes drifting off to yesteryear and times past. "Time really does fly. I still can't believe you're eighteen, and so beautiful!" Riley blushed as Stephanie studied her. "Mmmhmmm. I always said the Ortons would have beautiful kids. Aunt Steph is never wrong." The smile brought out the lines around her eyes, and Riley realise how tired Stephanie looked. She had barely reached double digits when Steph's father had passed away, working up to the day he'd finally shuffled off the mortal coil. She was too young to remember him, other than sketchy details of course, but Riley could recall Stephanie's raw and all-consuming grief. The hole her father left had never really been filled, as those wrinkles around her features made Riley think of the cracks that must still be beneath the woman's tough exterior.

"Thank you," Riley said, desperate not to dwell in dark thoughts when she had her own crisis to be dealing with in the prospect of her parent's dissolving marriage. "It'll be great to see them all again."

Stephanie nodded. "C'mon, I'll reintroduce you right now," she insisted, only pausing to sweep a gently thumb beneath Riley's left eye. "And sweet pea, whoever the guy is? Believe me, he is never worth your tears." Riley opened her mouth to attempt to deny that she'd been crying, and certainly not over a guy, but let it fall shut again. It was better that Stephanie thought that, rather than being exposed to the horrible truth. She was happy enough to be lead out of the bathroom, arm in arm with the Chairwoman of the Board of Directors, and into the fray.

The room was packed, filled with familiar and unfamiliar faces. Riley spotted her father, looking glum at the bar and her heart went to him instantly. How awful must he feel, knowing his family was being ripped away from him by the one woman who had to sword to love him forever? Riley wanted to go to him, to offer him her arms and words of comfort but was pulled to a nearby table before she could even attempt to detach herself from Stephanie.

"Over here sweet pea," she insisted, leading Riley up to someone sat a table with her back to him. The hulking form of Hunter Helmsley sat next to them, deep in conversation with some suit and hadn't noticed their arrival, nor had the faceless suit next to them. "Darling? Darling?" Stephanie cooed, tapping the suit-back on the shoulder. "You remember Riley Orton, don't you? It's been a while since you last met, Riley's little birthday party I believe but here you both are over a decade later, and all grown up."

Riley's reaction might have been less dramatic had Pennywise the Clown turned around to face her at that point. It all happened in slow motion, eyes bulging to bursting point as the owner of the suit back turned to face her. Dark blonde hair carefully disheveled into a sexy hairstyle, ocean deep blue eyes that registered as much surprise to her. Cut glass cheek bones balanced by a perfect nose and the most sensual mouth she had ever seen. It was a like a nightmare fantasy as the disbelieving face stared up at her from the table.

If Stephanie noticed the way the pair was staring at each other, she certainly didn't say anything. "Riley Orton, re-meet my eldest son, Ramsey McMahon-Helmsley. Ramsey, this is Trish and Randy's eldest daughter, Riley. Well get up out of your seat, then!"

The slightly exasperated tone had Ramsey rise from his seat to tower over both Riley and his mother. Clearing his throat, familiar distaste and rage burning in his eyes, he offered his hand awkwardly. Riley accepted it, noting he squeezed far too hard and nearly popped out one of her knuckles but made no show of it on her face. It all made sense now, that night of the try out for WWE. The mask and the shitty attitude driven by desperation and fury at his perceived losing. Just like her, Ramsey was the child of a wrestler, wanting to follow in his family footsteps but presumably being prevented from doing so, aching to achieve it on his own without being recognised as the son of the arguably greatest wrestler of all time and the progeny of the first family of wrestling. No wonder he wore a mask and was hell bent on getting in based on his ability. If she had it tough, bearing the name of McMahon must have made it impossible.

"Riley," Ramsey announced, speaking the name as though it was a dark secret, "you do look a lot different from the last time I saw you. When was that, again?" His lips parted into a devastating smile that only fueled Riley's near ragegasm.

"My fifth birthday party I believe, although I don't remember seeing your face so clearly. Must have been the mask." His eyes widened slightly as Riley smirked at being able to play his game a little better than he could.

"That's right," Stephanie chuckled, "that damn Batman mask that we couldn't get you out for love nor xBox. I'd forgotten all about that." So had Ramsey apparently, based on the look of relief that bordered on cardiac arrest. "What a good memory you have, Riley."

"That I do. It was a pleasure to catch up," Riley added without missing a beat, "but if you'll excuse me, I really need to speak to my _father_." The emphasis wasn't lost on Ramsey, who knew Randy's position with the business as well as his involvement at the next stages of new entrants to the company. "Lovely to see you Auntie Steph," Riley smiled and planted a kiss on the Chairwoman's cheek. She turned on her heel, throwing Ramsey a shit eating grin as she did so. "Ramsey." And with that, she took off across the room toward the table where Randy was now sitting opposite his wife.

* * *

"Jeff…Lana, what is this about?" Inquired the hesitant voice of Trish Orton as she peered between her friends, refusing to look across the table towards her soon to be ex-husband. They were all gathered around the round, peering nervously at her.

"We had a word with the booking department," Lana admitted apologetically, "and tweaked the seating plan." It was probably suicidal to admit what she'd done to get Randy and Trish to be sat at the same table together, but it would all be worth it in the end if they managed to put an end to this rift between the couple.

"Someone had better explain what all this is about," Randy gruffly demanded, leaning back in his chair, eyes never leaving the face of the woman who couldn't even bring herself to look at him. "I've got better things to do with my time."

"What's new there," Trish sighed, unable to stop the barb from leaving her mouth. She hadn't meant to sound so snappy, but it was true, wasn't it? Randy was always on the road, always working, never making time for his family or the woman he claimed to love. What right did he have to sit there and be as curt as he was right now?

"And what a welcome I would have had," Randy snipped back, clearly understanding what Trish was getting at. He was careless about the friends gathered around them: John and Candice Cena, Jeff and Lana Hardy, Punk and Mickie James, Lita and Edge. They had all come together for a reason it seemed, and perhaps it would turn out to be bodyguards to prevent them from going at it right here and right now in front of everyone.

"Guys, please," Jeff pleaded, holding up his hands to try and placate the warring factions of the Orton family. "This isn't about taking shots at one another. We all know what a rough time you two have been going through together, and we're concerned. We want to help, and put you guys to rights." Trish stared wide eyed at the words that tumbled from Jeff Hardy's lips. "You two have always been the couple that the rest of us aspired to be, you've been there for all us when we've had marital problems. We wanted to get you two together in the same time and at the same place to talk this through, in the presence of your friends, to work it out."

"Are you shitting me?" Randy exploded, fists clenching on the table. Her looked from person to person in turn, desperately trying to seek some confirmation that this was some type of hideous joke. "What gives any of you the right to get involved in our marriage and try and tell us what how to be. What gives you the right to –"

"Simmer down, man." Cena wisely counselled, placing a consoling hand on Randy's shoulder. "We're not here to judge you or blame you, but we wanted to be the bridge to help you guys get back to one another."

"You have no business doing that!" Randy exclaimed, glaring with wide eyed incredulity at his friends who couldn't even see what they were doing. "Whatever problems we may or may not have, it is completely between me and Trish." Had it really come to this, that the people he considered to be his extended family felt as though they reasons and even grounds to get involved in their marriage in this way? If Randy had felt alone before, then now he felt even worse, not recognising a single face of the people he thought were friends.

"But that's just it Randy," Candice soothed, eyes pleading with Randy, "you guys can't seem to do this on your own. We all know how much you love each other , what you've been through, and we want to help remind you guys of that. We want to-"

"I don't need reminding of anything!" Randy roared, fists rattling the table, venomous eyes turned on Candice. "What makes you even think you can-"

"Take it easy Randy." A warning tone crept into John's voice, clearly taking exception with the way his best friend was addressing his wife. "If you disagree with our methods, that's fine, but that is my girl you're talking to."

Randy glared at his supposed best friend in the whole world. "And it's my _marriage_ that both of you think you have right to stick your noses into. I cannot believe you of all people would have the fucking cheek to think you can…"

Randy snapped his mouth shut instantly, and total silence descended on the table as the petit blonde form of Riley appeared at the table, suspicious eyes talking in all the faces whose looks ranged from exasperation to fear. Not that Riley considered herself to be a particularly paranoid person, but from the guilty expressions on all of their faces, she'd certainly walked in on something here. "Daddy…what is going on?"

"Riley, baby, not now okay?" Randy offered weakly, rubbing his hand over his eyes as the beginning of a headache started at his temples. The last thing he needed was for his first born to see some twisted intervention in the form of her father's friends trying to fix the relationship of her parents, much less his volatile reaction to the entire affair.

"Then when?" Trish startled everyone as the short, sharp bark of her voice sounded across the table. Her silence leading up until now had gone unnoticed, but now that it was broken she was clearly furious. She'd lost her filter tonight, probably from emotional exhaustion given what she'd been through this week, and could censor herself at all. "When is a convenient time for you to get your stupid head out of your stupid ass and make time for you children?"

"Don't you _dare_ speak to him like that!" Trish was shocked into silence as Riley leered across the table at her mother, eyes burning with an anger that she felt went deeper than just chewing out her beloved father. "You don't have the right, not after what you've done."

Everyone had the sense to look puzzled, apart from Trish who looked as though she had been sucker punched by her own daughter. "What I've done?" Was this the indiscretion with Troy she was referring to? Had Parker told her? "Riley what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the-"

Riley wasn't allowed to finish the sentence, the entire table left hanging on her words as a tall young man appeared next to her, rattling off a hurried _'May I have this dance?' _before whisking Riley willing or otherwise to the dance floor. Somewhere in the confusion of the confrontation, the music the band had been playing had changed into something more appropriate for a waltz and Riley was caught up in it before she knew what was going on.

She looked up into the face of whomever it was that had stolen her from the table, who had stopped her from outing her mother for all her deceitful workings, only to be confronted with the beautiful eyes of Ramsey. "What in the hell do you think you are doing?" She hissed, struggling without success to break out of the frame he held her in as she guided her across the floor. His hand was firm at her waist, as was the other that clasped her hand in his own.

"Shut up," he hissed back, finding a space among the other couples who had taken to the floor thanks to the change of music. He had asked the band leader to change to this dance so he could get Riley alone without it looking suspicious. The last thing he needed was his mother teasing him about creeping off into corners with girls. "Don't you dare tell your father or anyone else you saw me at that event or I swear to god I'll make you regret it." Now was not the time to be issuing demands to the already frenzied Riley, not that Ramsey had any way of knowing that. "You nearly ruined my chance once, so help me God, I will not let you go for it a second time."

"What is your basic defect, you idiot!" Riley spat, deliberately driving the heel of her shoe into his foot. He lost balance, but continued to dance her around the floor. In some less antagonised part of her brain, Riley admired his skill in the dance, but it wasn't enough to make her want to ram her fist through his face any less. "I am not trying to ruin your chance for anything! Face facts, I beat you that night and you still got it! Stop crying over it and man up. Now let me go!"

Riley was utterly surprised when she felt his hand squeeze tighter around her waist, pulling her body flush with his. Ramsey's face invaded her vision so that he was all she could see, his scent drifting around her completely. Dammit, why couldn't he smell like a turd or something equally repulsive? Instead, the fresh masculine scent made her feel a little light headed.

"This is not a game," he growled at her, the normally sensual mouth thinned into a vicious line. "Getting into the company means everything to me, and I have worked too long and too hard to let anybody stop me now." There was raw emotion in his voice, something Riley could empathize with. She knew how hard it was to get a break if your parents were against you, not to mention living up the expectation that came with the name Orton. She would be a fourth generation superstar, not to mention the daughter of the greatest female wrestler of all time. If anyone could understand what he was going through, she could. "It's different for you, you're just an Orton. I'm a McMahon-Helmsley and those two names actually mean something in this business."

She wasn't sure what she was more angry at, the fact that he was suggesting that she would in some way try and prevent him from getting into the WWE or that his warm, or that his family meant something more than hers, or even that she actually had just felt a little bit sorry for the guy. And maybe it was just the masculine scent he was clouded in was sending sparks down into her stomach and even further below. Whatever the reason, this was not the time to find someone as arrogant and self-centred as Ramsey McMahon-Helmsley anything other than repugnant and realised her first impressions of him being a Grade A douche were actually correct.

"How about we try this, _Desperado," _she said just a little too loudly, enough to cause Ramsey to glance around him with a fair amount of panic on his features. "You get your hands off me, stay out of my way and don't even think about threatening me again." It was Riley's turn to get closer, standing on his toes to force him to stop and get a little closer to being up in his face. "Or I will march straight over to mommy and daddy's McMahon-Helmsley table and sing like a damn canarie!"

"You wouldn't dare," he spat, forcing her into moving again, "because I will go speak to momma and poppa Orton and tell them that their precious baby girl dresses like a slut and throws herself at men in the middle of the ring to get herself a wrestling contract."

They had both stopped now, clinging to each other furiously as their undiluted rage burned on their features. Riley would have liked nothing better in that moment than to claw his eyes out with her nails, and she knew the feeling was probably more than mutual. "Clearly then, we've both got each other over a barrel, although I'll bet you've got a damn sight more to lose than me."

"Why don't we see about that, princess?" Ramsey leered, attempting to swing Riley back into the rhythm of the dance.

She was ready for him this time, and digging down with her heels, Riley used the flash of pain in his features to push herself free. There was no way in hell she was putting up with this jerk for a second longer. She paused enough at Ramsey's _'you're gonna regret this, Riley' _but straightened up regardless and stomped her way off the dance floor. Right now she wanted to be as far away from Ramsey as humanly possible. He was as attractive as he was an asshole, and Riley genuinely didn't know what she would do to him if they remained in such close quarters for a moment longer.

* * *

Back at the Orton's table, things hadn't exactly gone from worse to better. Randy Orton was clearly furious, and by the look in his eyes, ready to punch someone square on the nose. The earlier shock and disbelief at his friend's actions had now mutated into something a lot more volatile. In his earlier days, he would have exploded by now, probably throwing the table over and launching into a foul mouthed rant. The woman sat opposite him, arms tightly folded across her chest acting as a sort of barrier to what was going on around her, was the reason he wasn't. She'd changed him in so many ways, brought out in him the man she'd always known him to be. Randy wished that Trish hadn't had to witness this gross invasion of their private life, but there was little he could do to shield her from it now.

"We're not trying to over step the mark," Lita pleaded with both Trish and Randy, "but as you're friends we can't bear to see either of you so sad anymore. You guys love each other, you always have, and it's largely because of you that those of us sat here tonight are with the people that we love and have beautiful children. You helped us so much, just by being the couple that you are, and we want to give that back to you. We want to help fix the cracks."

Randy scoffed. "Can you actually hear what you're saying right now? Seriously? What gives you the right to decide what kind of relationship I do and don't have with my wife? What gives you the damn right to even think you can pick out what might be wrong, much less get involved and fix it?"

"It's not about judging," Jeff offered in his most placid tone possible. "We're not trying to suggest that we can do something that you can't."

"Sure as hell sounds like it." Randy grunted, narrowed eyes starting Hardy down. "You ambush on a night that was supposed to be about giving to charity, about remembering Vince and having a good night." Randy's voice lowered, not wishing to expose himself any further but having no choice. "It's the one night we're all in the same place at the same time and you just had to ruin it."

Jeff ignored the poison laced tone. "I'm sorry about our choice of venue but it was the only place we could get both of you together. We just want to stop you two from making a mistake, from doing something that once you've had some distance and perspective from the whole thing, we know you'll live to regret."

"You have no business getting involved like that!" Randy exploded, shades of his former impetuous youth firing him into reaction. "If we're about to make a mistake then it's mine and Trish's to make and has nothing to do with you. You cannot and will not get involved in the private decisions that I make with my wife, whatever your intentions may or may not be."

Mickie James lent forward in her seat, resting her hand on Trish's shoulder. Clearly nobody was getting through to Randy so far, and perhaps speaking directly to the so far silent Mrs. Orton was the way to go now. "Trish, you haven't said anything at all yet. Please believe me, we would never do anything to deliberately hurt you, that's not why we're here. But we want to help makes things better for you, to help you remember why you two fell in love in the first place. Once we've done that, if you're still sure being married is not what you want any more then I swear to you we will leave you alone."

"Don't bother trying, just leave us alone now." Randy ordered from the side. As a rule, he detested any man that laid his hands on a woman, believing truly that they deserved an ass beating. Right now however he was willing to make a few exceptions for these interfering witches.

"Things have changed between you," Lana offered as diplomatically as possible. "The separation notwithstanding, things have been different between you and Randy for a long time. You know that, Trish. The two of you haven't been the couple you were for so long."

"They haven't been the same couple since Harry." Perhaps she was speaking to herself, maybe she was even relaying her private thoughts to her friends, but the moment the words tumbled from her lips, Candice Michelle-Cena slapped her hands over mouth, unable to take them back. It was a terrible moment, where a crushing silence fell over the table, and everyone turned in mock horror to face the woman who had spoken the unspeakable.

John Cena was on his feet in an instant. It was a good thing he reacted, becoming a wall of muscle between Randy and Candice because the former was in his feet, a mist of red, blood-boiling fury descending and unleashing a force more deadly than the Apex Predator of the WWE could ever hope to be. John couldn't truly say whether or not Randy would get physical with Candice, but he certainly was not going to entertain the option that it could happen either way. Randy stood, hands clenched at his side, chest heaving, body trembling with rage and John knew the wrong word now would lead to violence.

It was the sound of a chair clattering to the ground that snapped Randy out of it. He turned in heart breaking horror to see Trish on her feet, her chair upended and lying on the ground behind her as she stared in disbelief at Candice. Somehow he'd forgotten she was there, and if his fury was anything to go by, she would feeling a hundred times worse.

"Trish…oh god, Trish I am so sorry. I didn't mean…I didn't to-"

"How dare you." Trish's voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to cut Candice down to silence. "How dare all of you." Trish shook her head slowly, tears pooling in her eyes from a raw pain that had been gnawing away at her for a long time. "You sit there and you tell me you know what's right for me, what I should be doing, and you don't have a damn clue. You make me sick, all of you. You talk about making mistakes and fixing the cracks…they're not just cracks that we can fix. We were shattered a long time ago," Trish pointed accusingly between herself and Randy, "and no amount of words will fix that. If any of you knew me at all, you would at least understand that much."

"Butterfly, I-"

"Don't." Trish held up a single hand to Jeff Hardy's face, slowly turning her head so that he could see the tears burning in her eyes. "You just lost the right to call me that after what you've done tonight. After all these years Jeff, I thought you of all people would leave me be…that you would understand. Do you hate me that much that you could do this? How could you of all people do this to me?"

Jeff couldn't answer, not least because his voice deserted him at that very moment. It was another voice who intervened, younger and full of pain, clearly coloured by the effects of too many glasses of champagne out on the terrace.

"Oh tha's right. S'all about Trish Stratus, isn't it?" Trish winced, turning enough to see the inebriated form of her son, Parker, slowly making his way up to the table. His eyes were blurry and unfocused, the bowtie he'd been wearing undone and askew around his throat as he half staggered toward the table.

"Parker, sweetheart, now is not the time." Trish offered her hand to Parker, but he recoiled, jabbing an accusing finger in the air towards her.

"Now's the perfect time, Trish. Now that ev'ryone is here. Why don't you tell them…tell them and tell dad everything. They deserve to know." Losing his balance, Parker stumbled backwards into the person behind him before righting himself. He stepped forward again, placing his hands on the back of Jeff's chair to hold his body steady.

"You don't want to do this Parker," Candice pleaded, guessing at the boy's intentions and what would come next if he revealed exactly what he knew. "Think about it, clearly. You don't want to do this."

"Why are you protecting her, Candice?" Parker inquired, his alcohol fueled features making a rather comical mask of confusion. "She doesn't deserve it. She can't be loyal to my dad, so you can be damn sure she'd sell you out if you needed protecting."

Randy looked between his drunken son, his wife and Candice who had turned a deathly shade of pale. He hoped it was because of what she had said earlier, but the way she tugged at Parker's hands hand spoke to him in hushed tones suggested there was much more going on here than met the eye. What did those three know that he apparently didn't?

"Um, would somebody mind telling me what the hell is going on here?"

Trish could only wince again as the approaching voice of her daughter sent a chill of fear down her spine. It wasn't enough that her closest friends and those she considered to be here family had ripped her open here tonight, now here children were going to become witnesses to an even deeper massacre. This had to end, before it went too far and hell really broke loose. Trish could think of nothing other than shooting a pleading look to Randy, silently begging him to step in and put an end to this scene before it went to meltdown. He merely stayed silent, watching intently as he tried to put pieces of a jigsaw together when he wasn't sure of what the final image was meant to look like.

"Oh good, the fam'ly s'all here," Parker announced, shooting an amused wink to his sister. "I was just going to tell dad and everyone else what Aunt Candice and I saw the other day at Trish's yoga studio. It was a damn sight, wasn't it Trish? What s'a matter Trish? Got nothin' to say to the people? Funny, didn't seem like much was wrong with your tongue when I saw you."

Trish turned that same pleading look toward her son. It wasn't so much that she didn't want Randy to find out what had happened with Troy, it was more she didn't want him to find out in a scene like this. "Parker, please. Not here. Not like this. We can go home and talk about it there."

"Bullshit!" He roared. "We don't have a home anymore, you saw to that! You made that happen! It became just a house the minute you stuck your tongue down that dickhead lawyer's throat!"

That same shattering silence descended on the table like before, this time in the wake of Parker's revelation. Randy's face went slack, those sat at the table didn't know where or who to look at and Riley stumbled despite standing up straight. There was only one lawyer that Parker could be referring to, with Parker describing Trish's infidelity in rather graphic terms.

"Tha's right, ladies and gentleman," Parker sneered, "the amazing Trish is nothing more than a whore who is cheating on her husband. Prob'ly would have spread her legs for him too if I hadn't walked in and caught them sucking on each other's faces."

A slow buzzing sounded in Randy's ears, one he had to shake his head to get rid of. Could this be true, his beautiful wife was fooling around with her dick of a lawyer? They were estranged he knew, but he'd never once imagined that Trish would be with anyone else until their divorce was official. Had he expected too much of her perhaps, or did he hold their vows in a higher regard than she did. Randy glared directly at Trish, muscles bunching and tensing around his neck and jaw. "Is that true?"

How was she supposed to explain so that Randy would understand much yet believe? How could she describe the loneliness she felt without him, the low ebb Troy caught her at and Parker getting the wrong end of the stick entirely? Mute, Trish could only stumble over her words. "It was…he…I…it didn't-"

"Don't lie! Tell him the truth!" Parker demanded, tears springing from his eyes at the weight of what he was revealing to his wounded father. His beautiful mother, the woman he had grown up loving and respecting above all others was not the woman they all thought she was, and that hurt him more than he could express. "Tell him that you're cheating, tell him that you're fucking that douche bag of a lawyer and tell him you're a cheap slut!"

In a flash, Randy Orton was around the table, grabbing Parker by the collar and pulling him backwards and away from Trish. He gently but firmly placed his hands on either side of his son's face, cradling it gently and speaking low with forceful intent. "Don't you ever, and I mean **ever**, speak to or about your mother like that again. You understand me?"

Parker nodded, sniffing back the tears. He hadn't meant to say those words, to describe her like that but the pain was so raw it was like it controlled his mouth and gave voice to his darkest, most hurtful thoughts. It was John's turn now to come closer, slinging an arm around Parker's shoulder to hold him steady as Randy turned to face his wife. "Is that true, Trish? Are you seeing your lawyer?"

Trish wanted to wail that it wasn't, that nothing had happened beyond Troy forcing a kiss on her and being a sad, lonely woman she hadn't shoved him away like she should have done immediately. Instead she could only stand there, looking wide eyed at the man she had agreed to spend the rest of her life with and wanting him to just understand without words being necessary. They'd been able to do that once, get each other on a level without speaking, but it seemed that bond had been lost. The hurt reflected in his eyes couldn't be hidden by the mask he had placed over his features, and Trish could feel her heart being torn at the seams for what she had done. After all this time, nobody could hurt him worse than she could and she didn't know what to make of that realisation.

"Is it really cheating if you guys are getting a divorce?" Riley asked in a bitingly cold, matter of a fact delivery that earned everyone's attention. "Yeah, I know about that mom. I know that you have your date set, that you put in the request. And I know that you're going for sole custody of us."

"You what?" Randy exclaimed, unaware of the last part and that Trish would attempt to gain both of their children knowing full well he would be totally and utterly against it. Randy felt sucker punched, not sure if he recognised the woman stood opposite him. They'd been apart for so long, but even so, Randy hadn't imagined Trish could change so drastically. To Riley's innocent eyes however, it meant that her father knew nothing about this scheme and only reinforced her mother for the monster Riley was building her up in her mind to be.

"That's right. The perfect, infallible Trish Orton is not only cheating on her husband, but is filing for divorce and trying to steal both the kids in the deal." Riley shook her head, the cold rage evident on her beautiful features. "I always knew you were a heartless bitch mom, but even this is a new level for you . Whatever happens in this divorce, I want you to understand that I will never live with you. I will never stay in the same house as the woman who is willing destroyed her own family, just so she can screw around with her lawyer." Riley took a further step forward, squaring up to her mother without a glimmer of regret or doubt in her eyes. "I will never forgive you for this, mom. I hate you. You are dead to me."

"Riley!" Randy barked, his mind not able to keep up with his daughter after the revelation of what Trish had been planning to do. He wanted to demand that she take those words back, to apologise to her mother for everything she said, but was Riley she actually wrong? Trish had yet to contradict anything that their children were saying, yet his heart refused to take it at face value. Perhaps he was just a fool who couldn't see Trish for who she was, but he believed in the vows they had made twenty years ago, and just couldn't give up on her without hearing it from Trish first.

With her bottom lip and chin wobbling, Trish held her hand to her stomach. If this is what dying felt like, then she wanted it to be over fast. This had to be the end, there was no way in hell to come back from any of this. Her friends had betrayed her, she'd hurt the man she loved more than life itself and her own children hated her beyond comprehension. Everything, absolutely everything she held dear was crumbling fast around her and she couldn't begin to know how to save it. Really, what was the point in anything anymore if those she loved hated her.

"Screw you." Trish didn't know where the words came from, but she knew she meant then. She spent so long being everyone's punching bag, for holding friends and family together and never asking for anything for herself. The strength that had kept everyone else strong for so long was spent and really there was just nothing left fighting for anymore.

Her head lifted, shoulders squared as Trish surveyed the crowd of those she had once called friends and family. It was over. She didn't need them or anyone anymore. If they were finished with her, then she would be alone for good. "Screw all of you. I am done with every single one of you. I might be a bitch, I might be a slut and I might very well be the god damn devil herself, but I will be all of that without any of you." Trish's vengeful stare forced everyone down one by one. "I really hope you all got _exactly _what you wanted from me tonight, because you have stripped me of everything." Her eyes fell on the man she had once called a husband, seeing now little more than an unfamiliar face. "I have nothing left," she whispered, eyes glistening with tears she resolutely refused to shed. None of them deserved the satisfaction of seeing her cry after what they'd done.

"Trish, wait!" Randy pleaded, attempting to reach for his wife, but she stepped back all the same.

"Take care of _your_ children, Randy. You deserve each other." Snatching at her dress, Trish lifted it up so that she could take a clean step and walk. She crossed through the tables, ignoring the onlookers as she made for the exit, her head held high. Nobody moved. Nobody attempted to stop her. Within a handful of seconds, Trish slipped into the night and out of the door, perhaps out of their lives altogether.

Everyone at the table remained where they were, shocked into silence at what had transpired, unable to move and think. Guilt was the mood of the moment, everyone feeling responsible in some way for what had just transpired. If Randy had thought it over before, surely there could be no way back for any of them now. His beautiful wife had been ganged up upon by their friends, her husband had agreed to her request for a divorce and now her own children seemed to be against her to the point of hurting her beyond anything she had experienced before. Things seemed bleaker than they ever had before, and yet he was already moving.

"John, Candice, take the kids with you, will you?" He glanced between Parker and Riley, glaring at them both in turn. "We will be having a long conversation later." The warning delivered, both his children shrunk back as they knew exactly what he was talking about, as Randy moved to leave the table.

"Randy, where are you going?" Candice asked, dabbing at her teary eyes with a paper napkin. They had betrayed Trish and could never be forgiven for it, surely.

He turned back briefly, a half smile on his face as a hope he hadn't felt in years flowed through his eager veins. "To get my wife back."


	19. Unspoken

_**A/N**_**: Sunday evening update for you! This chapter has taken a little tinkering, but it's another that I've desperately wanted to write. I feel like it answers some questions that have been asked about Randy and Trish, but throws up a few more. I hope it's worth the read, and I promise to lay off the train wreck scenes for a little while. For those of you who want to high five Riley in the face with a paving slab, hopefully you'll get a better sense of her here. She's not about to do a 180, but there's still hope! If Randy and Trish disappear for the next few chapters, don't panic, they'll get their moment soon enough. As ever, I am floored by your dedication to this story. Thank you for sticking with me and reading it as you have been, and I hope you continue to up until the end. And of course, I would kiss you (in a non-creepy way) if you'd take the time to review and share your thoughts on the chapter. I disclaim!**

* * *

Easing her head out of the bedroom door, Melody peered down the empty landing. At nearly two am, there shouldn't have been a single person awake in the Cena household, but the low drone of the television from downstairs insisted that there was. Blowing a sigh out in frustration, the young brunette deeply wished she had gone with her first intention of calling a cab back to her house. Instead she'd let Riley's damn puppy dog eyes convince her to come to the Cena household to spend the night after the _fustercluck _that had been the McMahon benefit.

It would just be her luck that after successfully managing to avoid sight and meeting with Lucas Cena all evening at the ball, now would be time she would run into him. Even locking herself in the spare bedroom with Riley was no longer an option because she desperately needed to pee. With ruining a kidney not being on top of her lists of things to do before she was twenty-five, Melody knew she had no choice but to risk confrontation with the hunk of sex God on the landing.

Silently, she slipped out of the bedroom and took measured delicate steps across the carpet toward the bathroom. Dressed in a silk pyjama set that comprised of a thin strapped vest top and a pair of lacy shorts all in a fetching purple, Melody silently cursed Riley for not have more appropriate clothing stored away at the house. Riley was by no means out of shape, but their frames were different and Melody was painfully conscious of having a nip slip before she made it to the bathroom. Backed up against the wall, she kept her eyes on the light flickering from downstairs, as well as the bedroom door at the end of the hallway. Everything seemed dark down that end, and she prayed to whatever gods were listening that Lucas didn't choose this moment to get up and go for a wander.

Her hands had clasped on the door handle of the bathroom just as she spotted the light spilling out from between the bottom of the door and the frame. _Crap!_ Like a deer caught in the headlights, Melody was frozen as she assessed her options. Could she make it back to the spare room before the occupant came out? Maybe diving down the stairs and lying down flat would make good enough cover. She was too late in making her choice however as the toilet flushed and the door pulled open. Snatching her hand back, she nearly fell backwards at the force. Thankfully a pair of strong hands caught her before she crashed backwards against the banister. Unfortunately, those hands certainly didn't belong to Madison Cena.

Melody slowly tilted her head to be level again, coming face to stomach with the most delicious set of abs she had ever seen. This body was so shredded she was convinced she could grate vegetables on it. Lifting her head higher, Melody bit her lip at the sight of a rock like wide expanse of chest. A little further and of course she was treated to the smiling face of Lucas Cena.

Spluttering indignantly, she shrugged out of his hands, folding her arms tightly across her chest to hold her vest in place. "What the hell are you doing here?" She hissed, more out of embarrassment than anything else.

The mountain of man could only half smile at her. "What am I doing in the bathroom of my own home, Melody? Gee, let's think about that one for a second." His smile was warm and infectious, but it only served to make Melody squirm even more.

"Well, why the hell are you walking around in just a pair of sweat pants? Couldn't you have stuck some kind of shirt on?" Still whispering hissing, the octave of her voice had slightly gone up since the last time.

Lucas wasn't a self-conscious guy by any means, but the way she reacted so strongly against his shirtlessness made him fold his arms defensively across his chest too. "You're lucky I even stuck these on," he said as he nodded toward his sweat pants, "because I sleep naked and don't usually bother to put anything on at all. But I thought as we had guests staying, I'd better at least spare you some blushes."

Making a strange gurgle in the back of her throat, Melody was lost for words. She wanted to snap something, _anything, _back at him for the insinuation that he could make her blush by his clothing. She was lost for words however, almost transfixed by the dents in his hips that sloped down into the low slung sweat pants that rested there. _Oh sweet Jesus save me!_

"Enjoying the view?" He asked nonchalantly, causing Melody to snap her head up and peer into his large blue eyes. She knew he was just playing with her, but dammit if he wasn't good at getting a rise. "You can touch too if you like, I don't mind."

For the briefest of moments, she half considered extending a hand to rub her fingers down his stomach and feel those sharp cut lines in his hips. She knew however that her other hand would follow where the first had explored, and she would end up sliding both into the waist band of the sweat pants and then things would become totally inappropriate for the space outside a person's upstairs bathroom. Any minute now, Melody was convinced she'd be able to focus on something other than the burning in her cheeks. _Yep, any minute now._

Perhaps it was because he was done playing with her, or even he could sense how uncomfortable he was making her feel, either way Lucas was good enough to change the subject from his impressively ripped physique and let Melody resume a more rational train of thought.

"How's my girl doing in there?" He looked beyond Melody to the door of the spare bedroom where she and Riley were staying for the evening. He'd been out on the terrace during the whole affair between Randy, Trish and various other people, but Madison had given him a blow by blow description after they'd gotten home. He felt badly for Trish and also more than a little angry with Riley and Parker for acting out, but knew to chew them out now would be counterproductive, probably harmful. All he could do was be there for his oldest friends and hope for the best for their family.

"She hasn't descended into hysterics for the past eleven minutes. I think we're making progress." Her delivery was a touch deadpan, but truthful all the same. Since they'd arrive at the Cena household, Riley had flipped between extensive howling and screaming fests about what had happened this evening. She was clearly stuck on her anger mode, even if she didn't know how to express it healthily. "I'm worried about her. I've never seen her so unglued and she's going to hate herself tomorrow morning when she realises what she said to Trish."

"Yeah, she will." Lucas agreed, scratching the back of his head. "She and Trish always used to be so close, but now all they seem to do is fight over everything. I didn't even know her parents were getting divorced, but she was never going to take it well."

"Neither did I. I know Randy hasn't been on the scene for a while but I didn't know things had gotten this bad." Melody sighed, wondering what the fallout would be from this entire evening, not the least of which would be the divorce proceedings between Randy and Trish.

"Thing is, she's going to blame her mom for it which is only going to make it worse." Lucas added softly, staring off into the dark.

"Yeah, what is with that?" Melody wondered out loud. "It's like Randy can do no wrong in her eyes and everything is always her mother's fault. I'm no expert on functioning adult relationships, but even I can see that it takes two to make a marriage work."

Melody couldn't read the look on Lucas' face, but he seemed to be studying her. "I think she blames Trish for Randy not being there. They've been estranged for a while, but the fact that Trish doesn't want to see Randy, to Riley means that's the reason why they're not at home. Not to mention the fact that Trish is dead set against Riley getting into the wrestling business until she's completed her education."

She nodded her head slowly, finding it strangely comforting that someone else had such insight into her best friends. He might be sexual addiction on legs, but at least he had a good head on his shoulders.

"So you going to stand there in your sexy little PJs all night, or…" The smile on his face crept up to a sparkle in his eyes. Just when she thought he might be an upstanding guy, he had to go and think with his member instead. She couldn't blame him, really. Boys only had so much blood in their body that when it was being diverted down _there_ clearly the brain became starved of oxygen.

"I'm waiting to use the bathroom, actually," came her curt reply, "so if you'd please move yourself and retreat to the cave you crawled out of, I can get back to bed." His eyebrow arched at the mention of bed, and Melody found herself one step away from slapping him, mostly because she was curious as to what his bedroom looked like it. "My bed! Don't even think about it."

He leaned closer, so that she could actually feel the heat radiating from his body. "Trust me sweetheart, if I were thinking about it? We wouldn't still be standing here talking about it." His head eased to the side of hers as his voice lowered to a whisper. "I'd be admiring your PJs lying on my bedroom floor."

She'd heard much more crass descriptions in her time, but that still didn't prevent Melody's eyes from bulging nearly entirely out of her head. She pulled her hand back suddenly, landing a stinging slap across his cheek. Lucas had no time to react however, as in the next heartbeat she pounced, clawing at his body with her hands whilst she attacked his lips with her own. If he was taken by surprise, he certainly made up for lost times. His powerful arms were around her, lifting her and turning her around so that her back was pressed against the doorframe whilst his lips fought hers in a fiery kiss of dominance.

His hands pawed at her back, slipping beneath the hem of her vest to spread out across her back whilst the other moved down to cup her ass. Melody clawed at his massive shoulders, tracing the sculpted muscles that ran the length of his back. She was going to have sex with him, that was clear, she only hoped they made it to his bedroom before she was completely ravaged. And dear gods how she _hoped_ he would ravage her.

"Ahem."

Both bodies froze mid kiss, their lips an awkward tangle, hands in places really they shouldn't be. Lips frozen in a kiss grimace, Melody detached herself to turn slightly and see the sleepy form of Madison Cena standing out on the landing, looking less than impressed one door down from the bathroom. Her hair stuck out in odd angles as a halo around her head, sleeping eyes half glaring at them through the dim lighting.

"I can hear you two suck facing in my bedroom for crying out loud!" She groaned, making a face at her brother being caught in such an intimate clinch. "It sounds like a squid being thrown down the stairs! Keep it quiet people, I need my beauty sleep!"

With that, Madison slammed the door and returned to her bed. Melody clasped a hand over her mouth, mortified at what she was doing and more importantly, the damage she had done to such an impressionable mind. If Lucas felt anything close to what she was, he didn't show it. Instead he turned, his lips swollen from kisses but a rather self-satisfied smirk on his face. He'd clearly gotten what he wanted, and he was about to get more besides. Pulling her hand back, Melody slapped him again, a bite of pain stinging her palm.

"You animal! I can't believe you just did that!" Scandalized, Melody didn't know whether or not to cry or start kissing him all over again. Damn Lucas Cena and his attraction! It made her thoughts too fuzzy and more intimate areas hot and bothered.

"Uh, you kissed me remember?" He reminded her, massaging his jaw slightly from where she slapped him silly. "And by the way? Totally saw your boob."

Lucas ducked out of the way of another swinging slap, Melody hissing expletives as she tucked herself back into the pyjama vest top that was clearly too roomy for her. Chuckling to himself, Lucas made it back to his room, blowing Melody a kiss through the door before closing it solidly behind him. She heard the distinct clunk of a lock which was all well and good. Hopefully the Cena's didn't possess an axe for any reason otherwise she'd be re-enacting a scene from the Shining just so she could slap him repeatedly. Instead, she trudged into the bathroom, dropped onto the toilet and pondered exactly what she was going to do about her growing attraction to Lucas.

By the time she made it back to the room she was sharing with Riley, the eldest Orton child was standing at the window, peering through the curtains out into the night. The Cena home was far enough away from the main streets to be saved the sounds of the traffic outside, whilst still being close enough to the city to see the glow of the lights. There was a particular set of lights she was following now, ones that had broken away from the main dome of light and was headed toward the home. It could only be her father, she surmised, and Riley couldn't say she was truly looking forward to him arriving after everything that happened tonight.

"I thought you got lost," she admitted absently as Melody pushed the door closed to a firm click behind her. She didn't turn from the window, lost somewhere between contemplating the darkness and what exactly her father was going to say when he got here.

"I was…distracted." That was the most Melody was going to offer or admit. The last thing she needed was Riley gushing over what a great guy Lucas was. That said, it might do her friend good to think about something else for a change. The way she hung at the window reminded her of the ghost of some Dickensian character, haunting the halls of some grand house. That wouldn't do, so it was time to swallow her pride and do the friend thing. "I bumped into Lucas. Well, mostly his lips. And back."

That made Riley turn from the window, but did little to ease the drawn expression on her features. Instead she tucked her hands into the pockets of the pyjama pants she was wearing. "Your boob is hanging out."

"God dammit!" Melody barked, readjusting herself back into the top. "Stupid piece of shitty bed wear. Either you're getting a reduction or I'm getting some implants because this is ridiculous! The girls are falling out all over the place."

Riley said nothing, instead shuffling over the bed and half sitting on it as her other leg stretched out in front of her. "I can't believe she's cheating on my dad."

So, here it came. The more rational discussion of what had been revealed about Trish Stratus this night. Melody scurried over and jumped on the bed, sitting cross legged opposite her best friend. Some form of chocolate ice cream would be most appropriate, but there was no way she was heading downstairs to get it whilst Riley was on the verge of what felt like a massive venting fest.

"After all these years," Riley continued, playing with a strand of her caramel hair that fell down the side of her face, "now she chooses to fool around with someone. And the damn lawyer, of all people? I always thought he had a hard-on for my mother, but I never imagined she would lower herself to sleeping with him."

"You don't know that she is," Melody offered as diplomatically as possible given she was in the supportive best friend mode. "It sounded like Parker saw them kissing, that's all. And there could be a million and one different explanations for that."

"What? That she tripped and landed lips first on his mouth?" Came Riley's sarcastic supply. Clearly the benefit of the doubt and even innocent until proven guilty were not familiar concepts for a teenage daughter confronted with her parent's possible infidelity.

"You know that's not what I mean. But don't jump to conclusions like Parker did when we don't know all the facts." Melody couldn't believe how wise she sounded, but given her parents' ugly divorce and the hell everyone went through, she knew a little something about taking an even approach and not assuming things based on a shred of suspect evidence.

"But what if he is right?" Riley insisted, not sure whether Melody was making sense or if she was too tired to say what she was actually thinking. Whichever it was, she felt it in her bones that Melody was all wrong in this.

"And what if he's not?" Melody countered again, not trying to deliberately play devil's advocate but feeling that role regardless.

"If nothing was going on, why didn't she say something at the Ball?" Riley knew she had Melody with that one, because Trish had kept silent right up until the very end. "She didn't even try to deny it, Dee. She just stood there and made no effort to say Parker was wrong or I had it wrong. That to me says she's guilty and can't say a word in her own defence because we were all right."

"Or maybe your mom was blindsided by her friends, family and children who were attacking her from all sides. The entire seen looked pretty serious Ri, maybe it was more than your mom could handle." Melody had seen the tail end of the showdown at the Orton family table and instantly felt bad for Trish. Everyone seemed to be on her case, worst of all were her own children who saw fit to denounce their mother in front of everyone she held dear or in any kind of esteem.

Clearly Riley was not in the mood to be rational, switching back to her original train of thought. "What if my mom is screwing around with that Troy douchebag and god knows who else? What do we do then?" Riley looked like a lost little girl, and one that had just found out that Santa Claus actually wasn't real and girls never got their prince to get their happily ever after. If that was how she was feeling, Melody decided the tough love approach might be a better one to take.

"So what if she is? Come on Ri, your parents haven't been together for a long ass time. They've drifted apart over the years, maybe this is a sign that your mom is ready to move on. Is that really such a bad thing?" It was a potential pipe bomb of a question, but at some point, Riley had to go through the painful realisation that at some point, divorced couples moved on from their spouses.

Riley shook her head in a slow, sad arc. "It doesn't make sense. Being together made them so happy."

"Made them happy…or made you happy?" It was an obvious question to Melody, but when people were dealing with heart ache sometimes the obvious was as invisible as the wind.

Her friend's head lifted, locking eyes across the bed. "It made my dad happy. I know he doesn't want anything else other than my mom. He'll die without her. I can't imagine what it's doing to him knowing that the love of his life has filed for divorce."

"Again, don't assume you know that to be true Ri." The young Orton looked confused. "What I mean is that you don't know what will make your father happy. Have you asked him?" Riley shook her head as the negative. "Then maybe he's moved on to. Or at least he's ready to let go now that your mom is going ahead with the divorce."

"These are my parents, not yours." Riley snapped, Melody clearly having touched a nerve. "Just because your parents were toxic together doesn't mean every married couple is ready to split and abandon one another.

"You're right, they're your parents," Melody soothed letting Riley's reaction roll off of her shoulders, "and speaking as the child of divorced parents, I know that when it's over, it's really over and setting the other partner free is the best thing you can do. You might not want to see it now Riley, but this could be the best thing for your mom and dad."

Tears bubbled to her friend's eyes. "But I don't understand why, Dee. Why would you fall in love, make babies and get married if it wasn't forever? Why would they be so willing to give it all up?"

"Honey, if I could answer that question I'd get more syndication than Dr. Phil." Melody smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Some couples just don't last the distance. Doesn't mean they didn't love each other forever at the time, and it doesn't mean they love each other any less. It just means they don't want to make the other person miserable anymore and they love them enough to let them go."

Riley sighed heavily, sniffing back the tears that were desperate to tumble down her cheeks. "I just know that's not what they want. If my mom would stop being so stubborn and just see that-"

"Ri, I love you girl, but you have got to stop blaming all of this on your mom." Riley looked as though she would explode with reasons why Melody was so out of line, but she never gave her the chance. "Your parents have been separated for a long damn time, since before you and I even knew each other. If they really wanted to be together, if your dad was really the victim of your mom's callousness, don't you think he would have stepped in and done something about it by now?"

"Maybe," Riley finally offered grudgingly, although that one word felt like a monumental victory to Melody. Finally, Riley was starting to see a point of view that wasn't her own.

"Definitely," Melody corrected firmly, "he's stayed away because he's chosen to, not because Trish has physically kept him away. If they wanted it to work, they would have at least tried to make it to. Maybe it's time to think about your mom less as the villain of your life, and perhaps a single mom who loves her daughter to death and wants to move on from her own sadness after years of being lonely."

Riley's mouth opened to shoot Melody down, but found the words lacking. She'd never really stopped to think about it from her mother's perspective, in fact over the years she'd gone out of her way to make it all Trish's fault. But then again her mother was the one filing for divorce and she was the one kissing other guys whilst she was still technically married, separated or not. If she was the victim of circumstance that Melody was trying to make out, why was she always the one carrying the smoking gun?

Melody could see the internal battle being waged on the inside of Riley's head, and reached out to take her friend's hand. "Look, I know you have your issues with your mother. Believe me, I've got your issues and more when it comes to dealing with my baby incubator." That actually raised a brief smile out of Riley. "But at some point, even if it's not tonight, just stop and really think about this. Think about whether your mom is as bad as you think she is, or are you just looking to blame someone because your parent's marriage has failed and she's the convenient option?"

That deserved a swift and violent rebuttal, but the sound of a car pulling to a halt and the engine shutting off cut Riley off completely. Leaping off the bed, she glanced down out the window to see her father stepping out of a rental car and locking it behind him. It was gone two in the morning, heaven only knew where he'd been in the hours since Trish had walked out of the Benefit. As much as she was dreading what he would have to say about her treatment of her mother, Riley found herself rushing out of the room and downstairs to be near the man she knew could make it all right again.

Randy was already through the door, having a hushed conversation with John who had met him. He moved aside however, perhaps out of respect or even facing up the knowledge he wouldn't stop the force of nature that Riley was as she bounded into her father's arms. If he was here to chew his daughter out, she was at least granted this brief reprieve as he let her sink into his arms. There was nowhere else in the world she felt more comfortable, and there was nobody else who could make the world right like her father could. By the time she came up for air from the warmth of his embrace, John and Candice had already disappeared upstairs to bed. To her further surprise, Riley brushed her hand across her cheek, to find the wetness of shed tears. When had she started crying, and what the hell for?

If Randy had noticed, he certainly didn't say anything. Instead, with an arm slung around her shoulder, he guided his eldest child into the conservatory where Candice had set up a pot of coffee and some baked treats. Randy smiled softly, still amazed that after all these years Candice was the only person besides his wife he knew what a slave he was to his appetite. It was fair to say that Randy could always eat, even if he'd just had a five course meal five minutes before. He settled himself down on the wicker sofa and patted the space next to him, which Riley gratefully curled up into.

"Your brother asleep?" Randy asked between mouthfuls of double chocolate chip cookies.

Riley nodded. "He crashed a few hours ago, sleeping off the beer. I think he's going to have one heck of a hangover when he wakes up." She sniffed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"At least that'll put him off getting as drunk as he was anytime soon." Randy nodded, remember the first time he'd ever gotten that drunk. He glanced toward the entrance of the conservatory, seemingly making sure they were alone. "And I'm glad he's upstairs, so he won't have to hear this."

His daughter gulped, perhaps a little too loudly, based on the piece of cookie that she had bitten off. So here it came. He was going to yell at her for speaking out of turn, for dressing Trish down even though somebody had to do it. Riley was beginning to come to the conclusion that everyone else viewed Trish Stratus through rose tinted glasses and were either blind to or refused to accept her faults. She might be the only one who could see her mother for what she was, but Riley was comfortable with that, because she was convinced that the others would come round to her way of thinking…eventually. She couldn't be as innocent as everyone made her out to be, because event circumstantial evidence carried some weight when it kept occurring, surely?

Randy sighed, looking weary even beyond the late hour. "What you did tonight Riley, the things you said…"Randy trailed off, as though he were trying to figure out what he was going to say. Riley automatically wanted to spew words in her own defence but decided to keep them to herself until Randy had said what he needed to. "I guess I never realised what a spoiled little brat you can be at times." It wasn't lost on Randy that his daughter's jaw nearly hit the floor. He didn't know what she was expecting him to say, but clearly the truth wasn't part of it. "Don't look at me like that. You were way out of line, kiddo. So much so that brat doesn't do justice. No, you were a complete and utter bitch at the Benefit."

Standing up from the seat, Riley looked lost somewhere between crying hysterically and screaming at the top of her lungs. The result was a strangled bite of a voice that sounded alien to her own ears. "I'm a bitch? She's the one screwing around behind your back, filing for divorce and ruining our family but I'm the bad guy in all this?"

"Right now, yeah you are." Randy admitted, leaning back in his chair. He'd always known Riley had a temper, something she'd inherited from him clearly, but he hadn't realised how deeply her anger ran. Something told him tonight's little display was the mere tip of the iceberg when it came to her mother.

"What is that matter with you?" She was screaming now, but Riley didn't care if the whole East coast could hear her. "Why won't you ever see mom for what she really is? She's a lying, selfish, manipulative bitch that has every single man, woman and child running around at her whim because she flashes her smile and jiggles her cleavage! She screws around and you let it go, she savages your marriage and you do nothing. Now she's making everyone's life a misery and you're just going to sit there and defend her? What will it take for you to see how heartless she is?!"

"It's late, you're tired, so you get a free pass for that one," Randy advised, seething beneath the surface at the character assassination his daughter was performing on her own mother "but I suggest you choose your next words one hell of a lot more carefully."

Riley's resolved wobbled, but didn't crumble. Sucking in a deep breath, she centred her raging thoughts. This had to come out now, her daddy had to see the truth. If this was her one shot at getting him to see her mother in the harsh light of reality, she really needed to pick her words to perfection. "I don't understand why you and everyone else let her get away with what she does."

Her father had the cheek to look amused. "Like what, Riley? Tell me something your mom apparently gets away with."

"The way she treats you, for one." Randy only arched an eyebrow. "Come on dad, everyone knows she can't stand the sight of you. She keeps you away from the house, from her, and by proxy me and Parker. We get to see you on special occasions, if we're lucky, but I can count on one hand the last time we were all together in the house." Her father said nothing, merely making a motion with his hand for her to continue. "And what about springing a divorce on you with a custody hearing to go with it? Why isn't she at least trying to make your marriage work? What kind of example does it set when she's willing to give up so easily?"

Randy could see the trembling bottom lip and glassy eyes on his daughter's face. By rights, he should stop her now before she went really over the edge, but he remember from his own therapy sessions that there was no better response to pain than talking about it, he did nothing. "Go on," he instructed, leaning back in the seat as he awaited the rest.

"She makes everyone's lives miserable in one way or another. She's always on Parker's case about his grades!" Randy barely flinched at that, and she continued on. "She polices me within an inch of my life and won't even talk about letting me try out for the WWE despite it being what I really, really want. And what about you? How does it make you feel to know your wife has been sleeping around behind your back with her damn lawyer? How many people does she have to hurt before you'll see her for what she really is, dad? How many? Why aren't you answering me?"

That was enough to break her, as Riley finally rode out the wave of her fury. Tears streamed down her face, voice choked by emotion, Riley let her hands rise up to meet her falling face as she sobbed gently into her palms. Randy slowly stood from his seat and went to her. At first, Riley shrugged her way free from his arms, but her resolve melted and she sank into his embrace willingly. It felt like he held her for an eternity, crying continuously as years of built up frustration and pain came pouring out of her eyes like the first thaw of winter down a mountainside. Riley wasn't sure she would ever be able to stop crying, and couldn't say what she was crying for. In remorse for all the things she'd said tonight, for how hurt her father must be and disappointed in his daughter? Or maybe she was just feeling sorry for herself after a testing few weeks which included being suspended and losing her boyfriend to an airhead. Perhaps it was a combination of them all, and Randy simply seemed to understand, rocking her gently as she cried into his chest.

Finally, the tears ran dry, and Riley found herself back on the couch, cradled against her father's torso. He stroked her hair softly, whispering gently into the crown of her head that she was beautiful and loved, and everything would be okay. If only it were that simple, and words could heal a broken heart.

"I'm tired." Riley admitted, physically and emotionally drained from the events of the evening and everything that had led them up to this particular point.

"I know you are baby, and I'm proud of you for letting it all out. I was about a decade older than you before I knew how to pour my heart out like that." Riley glanced up at him, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand. "It might not feel like it now, but you'll feel better for it in the morning."

"I guess," Riley said softly, letting her head rest on her father's chest as he stroked her hair. Suddenly she felt like she was five years old again, cuddling up to her father on one of his visits home from the road. It was a pleasant memory, much nicer it seemed than the reality of their relationship that she was stuck living in at the minute.

"Your mom really isn't all that bad, y'know." He smiled as Riley snorted in opposition. "She isn't. Believe me, I know her better than anyone in the world and I'll be the first to tell you she isn't perfect. She has her faults, stuff she's never really been able to work through but that doesn't mean she hasn't tried. If she was perfect, I probably wouldn't love her half as much as I do. It's her faults that I love, those mistakes and screw ups that make her who she is that I fell in love with. She's no angel and she makes mistakes, but I would give my life for her just like I know she would for you."

Riley lifted her head, a sceptical eyebrow arched. "She gave birth to me, she's supposed to feel like that. It's like genetic law or something."

"You sure as hell don't make it easy for her. These last few years you've been fighting her every step of the way." The look that she gave made her surprise obvious. "Hey, I may not have been around that much but it doesn't mean I didn't know what was going on with you guys, or that your mom didn't keep me informed of you acting out."

"Why couldn't she let you be around, daddy?" Riley despised the childish whine that was creeping into her voice, but could do nothing to remove it. "Would that really have been so hard for her?"

"It would, actually." Randy shifted position slightly, allowing Riley to sit up so that she was looking at him more directly. He took in a deep breath, as though he were preparing himself for a little unburdening of his own. Just as lips parted to begin, the patter of bare feet against the wood flooring made both father and daughter look toward the entrance.

Standing there, bleary eyed was Parker. "I heard raised voices." He was caught somewhere between sobriety and a hangover, but was clearly awake enough to join them anyway. He was warmed to see his father present, fully expecting a roasting for yelling at his mother. Now that he had a little perspective, Parker felt like he needed it because he knew what he'd said had been over the mark. Why couldn't he have just talked to his mother first, given her the chance to explain instead of going off at the deep end?

If Randy was here to pass judgement however, he didn't show it. Instead, he motioned for his son to join them, and Parker took his place under his father's other arm. "I'm glad you're here son. You need to hear this too."

Randy couldn't deny how much he'd missed the closeness with his children. To have both of them resting their heads on his shoulders made him grieve for the life he'd missed out on and the pain all three members of his family must have felt by his absence. They should have been a unit, together at all costs and forever but he'd allowed them to splinter. He owed it to them both now more than ever to explain why they hadn't been a family for a long time.

"You're right Riley, your mom did keep me away. But it's not because she's cruel or wanted anyone to suffer." Randy could imagine the look of disbelief on her daughter's face. Aside from an act of God, he couldn't imagine Riley thinking anything but the worst of her mother. "The fact is it was just too painful for her to see me. She tried, really tried, in the beginning but we slipped away from each other and after a while, the gap just became too wide for either of us to cross."

"Why was it too painful for her?" Parker asked, managing to snag himself a cookie to chew thoughtfully on as he listened. It didn't make sense that his mother could be hurt without there being a reason.

"There's a lot you don't know about our marriage, stuff we never told you," Randy admitted, wondering if he should be the one to tell the children, much less without his wife present. "Some of it was because it hurt too much. The rest…well, you were too young to remember it at the time at there didn't seem to be much point in dredging it all up again when you got older."

Riley sat up, crossing her legs as she watched her father in the dim lightning. Part of her stung at knowing her parents had deliberately concealed things from her, but her curiosity to know what it was kept her vicious tongue still. "So tell us now. I think we deserve that much."

"You're right baby, you do. It all began with you, actually." Riley blinked, for the moment her secret fear that she was the cause of the marriage breakdown being given life. "Your mom's pregnancy with you was hard on her. It was worst when she gave birth to you. We never told you this, but your mother died for a minute or so when you were born. Thankfully, we got her back, but I can tell you that it was the scariest hour of my life. When I thought I'd lost her…let's just say it wasn't good."

Sobering silence fell over all three as the revelation sunk in. Riley had had no idea her birth had been that difficult. Nobody really talked about it, and she hadn't asked. To know that her mother had actually died as a thought her mind couldn't begin to compute, yet something told her however that that wasn't the biggest revelation yet to come.

"Still, you ask your mom and she doesn't regret a minute of it, because it gave us a beautiful girl." Randy turned slightly toward his son. "Parker, you were even harder on her." Parker blinked rapidly, feeling even more guilt suddenly at everything he had said earlier in the night. "She was bedridden for the majority of the pregnancy because it was so high risk. She blamed herself, felt she as responsible for it even though she had done nothing wrong. It was just the way it worked out. As healthy as your mom has always been, she just was never up to carrying babies." Randy smiled sadly, ruffling his son's hair in his hands. "But despite that difficult nine months and a hellish labour, we were blessed with a son and we felt complete. "

Parker smiled weakly, guilt crushing him even more at yelling at his mother knowing what she'd gone through to bring him into the world. "After that, the doctors told us that we couldn't have any more children because it would be too risky to your mom. It was sad, because we'd both wanted a big family, but it was enough that we had two beautiful healthy babies and you had brought more than enough joy into our lives. So I had a vasectomy to make sure there wouldn't be any more."

"Wow, I didn't know that." Parker admitted softly. Not that he often imagined his father's reproductive capabilities, but he'd been unaware of the reason why they'd never had more babies was because of medical intervention.

"There was never a reason to tell you. We were no longer capable of making babies, and Trish was safe from any further harm. At least, that's how it was supposed to be. Turns out, no method of birth control is one hundred per cent effective. One in one thousand vasectomies fail, and I just had to be that one."

Riley gasped softly into the darkness. "You got pregnant again? I didn't know that." Riley paused, thinking hard to any time where her mother might have been pregnant. It wasn't something you just forgot, was it? Try as she might, she couldn't recall it happening, allowing her to deduce at least that she had to have been young. "What happened, dad?"

Clearly, the going was getting tougher for their father. He swallowed, trying to fight back the tears in his eyes. "We found out that your mom was pregnant. We were absolutely terrified, Parker was one and you'd just turned two. The thought of something going wrong and you two growing up without a mother was too much for me to handle. We spoke to the doctors, and organised an abortion. Neither of us wanted to do it, but the risk to your mom was just too great and I couldn't lose her, even if it meant letting go of our child."

Her hand to her mouth, Riley felt her other hand reach out to squeeze her father's hand. What an awful decision that must have been, to end the life of their growing child because of what it might do the woman carrying it. A shard of pain stabbed through Riley's heart, seeing her mother from a perspective she'd never seen before. As a woman, what must she have gone through knowing she had no choice but to terminate the life growing inside her despite it being a wish of hers to have more children?

"We were all booked for the termination, but your mom…she changed her mind. She told me she felt different this time, that the pregnancy was more comfortable than the first two and she felt great. She looked so beautiful, glowing because of what was happening inside her. She was happier than I'd seen her and I desperately wanted to believe her that everything would be okay. And even with the risks, I let her convince me to keep the baby, even against the doctor's orders. She got past the first trimester so easily, and she was so joyful that I let myself breathe again. I actually started to hope that our family would grow. We were going to have another baby, three beautiful children to make our family even more perfect. We bought the house where we live now, started decorating the nursery. I'd negotiated extended time off from the company so I could be there as much as possible and we were picking out names for the new arrival. And then…then…"

Randy's voice was cut off by a sob he tried so hard to keep buried in his chest. Parker instinctively wrapped his arms around his father as Randy tried to shield his face in the crook of his elbow. His children shouldn't have to see him like this, weeping over a secret he'd kept from them all this time. It hurt too much however to give voice to the pain he'd been keeping quietly inside a corner of his heart for so long. How could he put into words what he and Trish had gone through to let his children understand?

"Daddy…what happened?" Riley whispered, biting down onto her bottom lip as terror flooded her.

A shaky breath taken in, Randy lowered his arm as he fought to gain composure. Despite this happening over fifteen years ago, the pain was as fresh and raw as it had ever been. "It was just a general check-up, a routine visit that was supposed to be a quick look at your mom. I knew something was wrong from the way the nurse looked at the monitor. She went to get a doctor, and your mom squeezed my hand, telling me everything was okay and that I shouldn't worry. She's always had this way of making me believe, and I'd never wanted to believe her so much in my entire life as in that moment."

He broke off again, lost to the silence of the room as he contemplated what he knew was coming next. Riley couldn't help but hang on every word that her father spoke, desperate and terrified of the knowledge of what happened to the third Orton baby that up until now neither she nor her brother Parker knew about. Could it be so terrible that they'd kept it secret from their other two children for all this time? Nothing good could come out of whatever her father said next, but still, Riley had to know.

"Please, tell me what happened." Riley begged softly, holding her father's arm and staring intently into his face even though he was looking directly at the floor.

"Riley, shut up!" Parker hissed, seeing how difficult it was for their father to explain what had happened and wanting to punch his sister hard for her callous curiosity in the face of so much pain. Obviously something terrible had happened, thus why it had been kept a secret from them.

"It's okay, Parker. I need to get this out." Randy admitted, seemingly finding enough emotional strength to say what he needed to. "The doctor checked your mom out and told us that…that the baby had died. Probably had a little while ago. Your mom wouldn't accept it, didn't believe that our little baby was anything but thriving inside her and wanted a second and third opinion. But it was true. There was no heartbeat. Nothing at all. Once she got over the shock, she was torn apart. It destroyed her, knowing that the little light she'd been carrying had been snuffed out and she never even knew, carrying on like nothing had happened. Our little boy…little Harry, had left us as quietly as he'd come into our lives...and we didn't even get the chance to meet him."

Parker dissolved into tears, letting himself be dragged into a fierce hug by his father who kept his own tears at bay whilst his son cried inconsolably into his shoulder. It couldn't be easy knowing that you had a sibling that you knew nothing about, even when he had passed away. Randy knew Parker's tears weren't just for the loss of the little brother he'd never even known about, but for everything he had said and done where his mother was concerned. Whatever she may or may not have done, Randy knew that Parker loved his mother unquestionably and would likely carry his guilt for a good while let. It was enough to know that Parker was desperately remorseful and would learn a lesson tonight. Riley however had fallen silent. Randy turned to see her standing at the window, her reflection showing dark circles beneath her eyes as she stared out into the night.

"I'm sorry daddy. I didn't know." Her voice was flat, lacking any real spark and Randy perceived it at shock. He went to her then, placing a hand on her shoulder as she searched the darkness in vain for answers. All these years, and there had been a lie at the centre of her family. She almost understood the reasons why it had been kept a secret from her, but she still struggled to reconcile this new information with the monster she'd painted her mother to be.

"It's okay baby. I just want you to understand. Your mom didn't split us up, but losing the baby caused a crack between us that we were never able to repair. After he was gone, your mom just wasn't the same. Grief sucked her in completely, and I couldn't help her. To my eternal shame and regret, when she tried to push me away, I let her. I was so hollow at losing the baby I couldn't be what she needed and I failed her. I should have been there for her, but I drifted, threw myself into work trying to come to terms with it. After we'd both healed a little, we were different people and couldn't go back. We should have gone through it together, but we'd survived on our own and weren't the same couple anymore." Randy sighed heavily, wondering where he and Trish would have been had he tried harder. "I should have tried harder, should have been better, and I let you all down. I'm the one who is sorry Riley. It's me you should be angry with, not your mom."

Riley turned, fresh tears escaping from her eyes. "I could never be angry with you daddy. And I shouldn't have said what I said about mom. I've just been so angry for so long…and I didn't know any of this." How much of a difference it made to know that your parents had survived losing a child and had still managed to raise two children. Suddenly the distance between her parents made sense, although Riley felt angry that they'd both let themselves be apart from one another all this time. They'd lost one child, but it seemed she and Parker were supposed to suffer as well because of it.

"You'll get your chance to talk it through with her," Randy offered, slinging a hand around her shoulder. "But for right now you both need to get some sleep. It's been a really long night and you need some time to process everything. Just promise me you will give your mom a chance to explain about the Troy stuff?" Riley and Parker nodded in unison. "Whatever we may feel about it, she at least deserves some leniency for everything she's been through."

"But what if she is seeing Troy behind your back, dad? Are we just going to stand by and let her do it?" It was Parker's turn to ask now, clearly afraid at what it would mean if their mother was seeing her lawyer.

"If and when I find out it's true she's dating her lawyer, then I guess I'll let her be happy with whoever she wants to be happy with." Riley and Parker looked thunderstruck, as though their father were giving up and betraying them in equal measure. "However, I just happen to believe that I'm the only guy that can make your mother happy, and when I find her, I'm going to prove it."

"Wait, what do you mean when you find her?" Parker asked, alarmed at the thought of his mother being missing. After everything that he'd said, Parker didn't trust that something awful hadn't happened and it would all be his fault.

"She's gone son, passport and all." Parker looked ready to collapse, but Randy offered him a knowing smile. "Don't worry. Like I said, I know your mother better than anyone else in the whole world. I know where she is. Once I've given her a little while to cool down, I'm going to go get her and bring her home."

"Can I come?" Parker asked hopefully.

"I think it's better if you sit this trip out, kiddo." Randy smiled warmly. "Your mom and I are long overdue for a talk, so you two can chill out here with Uncle John and Aunt Candice for a while, okay?"

"Actually, if it's okay with you dad, I'm going to go stay with Melody for a few days. I cleared it with mom already. Right now I could really use ice cream, chick flicks and my best friend, y'know?" She asked hopefully.

"Sure baby," Randy nodded, guiding her back to the couch where he sat down once more with a child on either side curling up to him. "Whatever makes you happy. Just take it easy for a few days, okay? You both need some time to come to terms with all of this. If you want to talk about anything that I've told you, I'm just a cell phone call away. "

Riley nodded silently, already feeling the lull of sleep drawing her closer as she snuggled comfortably against her father. On the other side, she saw her brother doing exactly the same. Clearly it was having a harder effect on him than her, as she swore that Parker was already fast asleep against her father's chest. She couldn't blame him of course, there really was no safer place for either of them to be.

Once she had a few days to clear her head and process everything she'd learned, Riley knew she would feel better and would probably be able to talk to her mother better than she had for a while. She just hoped the distance would give her the perspective that she dearly needed. It seemed rather than completely quelling the resentment she held for her mother, it had allowed it to grow into the beginnings of resentment for her father as well. She felt terribly guilty for feeling that way, especially after everything she'd learned tonight. But Riley couldn't help but wonder if had her parents been honest from the outset, would they all be in the position they were in now?

Then, there was still the matter of the divorce and custody hearing that needed straightening out, but coherent thoughts as to how she could fix it deserted Riley as sleep crept up on her and stole her away.

Sighing gently, Randy felt both his children drift off to sleep in his arms and smile gently. It had been a long time since he'd felt this close to his children, and despite the pain it had caused him to tell them the truth about Harry, he couldn't deny it felt like a fifty tonne weight being lifted cleanly from his shoulders. He wasn't sure how Trish would react to knowing that he'd told their children the truth, especially as they'd made an agreement never to reveal it to them. He knew Trish had long since blocked out the reason for the deterioration of their marriage, but hoped Candice accidentally mentioning it tonight would be the first step on their road to facing the truth behind it all. Randy knew now that holding onto all that hurt for so long had been poising their love for each other. Maybe now that he'd been honest, they could start the healing process properly, and he and his wife could finally grieve together over tragically losing their third child.

Randy couldn't help but smile with hope as sleep finally overtook him. Perhaps now, after nearly two decades of estrangement, he'd be able to get his family back to the place where it should always have been, and in doing so, they could finally say goodbye to the little angel that they'd lost along the way.


	20. Welcome to Hell

_**A/N:**_**A brand, spanking new update for your reading pleasure. Excuse the fan boy moment, but how awesome is it that Trish is going to be inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame? I thought that perhaps Sable or even Lita would make it in before her, but I am nonetheless thrilled that (in my humble opinion) the greatest female wrestler has made it into the HoF where I've always thought she would end up. With that in mind, I hope you guys won't mind if in future chapters I refer to Trish's HoF status. It's too awesome to ignore. Anyways, on with the good stuff! If you're reading, please leave me a review and let me know what you're thinking, even if it is to tell me how much you dislike Riley. It would make me smile ahead of what is going to be a **_**very**_** trying week. I disclaim!**

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With her feet pressed up against the glove compartment, Riley slurped thoughtfully upon a large chocolate milkshake as she pondered her life and the direction it was heading in. On the one hand, she was finally getting her shot at achieving her dream of becoming a wrestler. Years of determination and hard work had finally paid off and if she could just make through this weekend, Riley would be on her way to becoming the newest WWE Diva.

Of course personally things weren't exactly looking all that great. Her suspension was up on Monday, allowing her to return to school. Somehow returning to the halls and being faced with all the looks and stares of everyone who knew she'd been dumped in favour of Savannah were probably more than she could stand, to say nothing about being face to face with Jeremy. More than that, there was the issue of her parents' marriage to contend with. The startling revelations from her father had left her with some unanswered questions and deep concerns. All this time she'd been so angry with her mother for pushing her father away, and yet it was far more complicated than she'd ever imagined.

Had she judged her mother too harshly? An argument could be made for it, although there was still the issue of divorce and the custody agreement that had been overlooked. Not to mention the fact that Trish would most likely murder her if she found out that her only daughter was at a WWE boot camp for new talent. Assuming of course that anyone informed her. Since the McMahon benefit, Trish Orton hadn't been seen or heard from. Riley had fielded several concerned telephone calls on her cell from friends, family and even business associates who seemed unable to get in contact with her mother. A slow worm of concern that had started after that evening was now more of a twist in her gut. What if something had happened to her mother and Riley was never able to talk to her again? Would she feel guilty for their last conversation, or live with an inexplicable anger toward her mother?

Quickly, Riley shook her head, dismissing the thought and silencing it forever. Her father had assured her that everything would be fine, and he knew exactly how to get to her. Trish would be fine, and Riley would be able to sort out this jumble of emotions and concerns at a later time when she wasn't so preoccupied with what was about to happen.

"I think this is it." Melody's voice drifted into her consciousness, and Riley pulled herself back from staring through the window in time to see her friend make a turning. They'd been travelling through what felt like a forest for a number of minutes, now coming off the main road to a dirt track that held a simple sign announcing it as 'Boot Camp'.

Riley sat up, more aware now of her surroundings and what she was seeing. She wanted to take the whole moment in, to etch in her memory the approach to the facility so that she remembered it in years to come when she was amazing audiences as a contracted WWE performer.

"Now, I've packed a few extra wigs for you, just in case the one you're wearing gets damaged or whatever," Melody explained in an oddly motherly tone. "I raided my mom's First Aid cabinet and stocked you up with supplies just in case you get your butt handed to you. I've also thrown in a few condoms just in case."

"Melody!" Riley gasped, scandalized at the thought of her friend assuming she'd need protection because of having sex.

"I said in case!" She snapped back, clearly not pleased at being questioned. "I'm not saying you're going to bed every person you meet at the facility, but you don't know what it's like being around boys." If looks could kill, Melody knew she would be six feet under in this moment. "I mean in a physical, muscle exerting, sweat pouring, heart pounding kinda way. I was the captain of the Cheerleading squad and I know what it's like to be working up a sweat around the practising football guys. Blood is pumping, hormones are racing and the next thing you know you're face down, ass up on a crash mat with only a pompom to cover your modesty."

Riley could only roll her eyes. "I hope to have a touch more self-control than that, Dee. Besides, my only focus is to be successful this weekend. I just need to impress the trainers so I get a shot at a real WWE training facility. Once I get there, I know I'm going to make it up to the roster."

"Wait, you're saying being out in the middle of nowhere doesn't guarantee you a job?" Melody looked horrified, apparently not understanding the complexities of the process. "What kind of company is this? Prisoners get more humane treatment than shipping out to some deserted farm in the backyard of beyond to get beaten up with no guarantee of a contract!"

"It's just how it is now." Riley shrugged, forgetting that her best friend wasn't as intimate with the internal workings of a sports entertainment behemoth like World Wrestling Entertainment. "You get the try-out stages, then those who win at those get a spot at the Boot camp where they whittle you down to a few . Only the best make it through to the training programme and then the best of the best get called up the roster. Everything rides on this weekend, really."

"Sounds like a hell of a lot of work on just a 'maybe', Ri. But, you do what makes you happy as always and I'll have your back just like I always do." Melody flashed her a brilliant grin. "And because of that, you will take the condoms and you will play safe." She could see from the corner of her eye that Riley was about to object again and quickly continued. "I don't care who you do with it with or what you do, but you will play safe."

"Fine," Riley huffed, folding her arms and leaning back into her seat. She knew she wouldn't need the condoms and point blank refused to even look at them, but this was an argument she wasn't going to win in a hurry and it would be blatantly easier to let Melody get what she wanted. "I'll take them with me and play safe should the world end and I somehow end up in bed with someone."

"Doesn't have to be a bed," Melody corrected, as she rounded a corner and slowly came to a halt. "Tell me this is not it. You're going to spend the weekend in this dump?" Her voice reaching levels now that only canine creatures could appreciate, Melody shifted the car into reverse and prepared to get the hell out of there. "Oh hell no, missy. I'm taking your ass home right now."

"Dee, would you stop it?" Riley insisted, catching the steering wheel so that her friend couldn't reverse the vehicle. "This…this is _awesome!_"

Ignoring the look of terrified shock on her friend's face, Riley leaned forward to stare out of the window to the most amazing sight of her life. It was little more than a large square building, flanked by three smaller buildings, all painted in the same shade of white that had seen better days and was now flaking slowly to death. The ground around it had been trampled to a fine brown dust, keeping the vegetation at bay on all sides. A few cars were parked in front of the larger building, where Riley knew the ring was stored, and a large silver box rested a few meters away from the main structure. Heart pounding in her chest, Riley knew that she was home. She felt as though everything in her life had led her to this point, and in the seclusion of the trees would be the beginning of something awesome as she got to work in these grounds.

"Riley, _please_ let me take you home," Melody begged, "this place must be breaking at least a dozen health and hygiene laws. It can't possibly be safe. There has to be some other way of getting into the business that doesn't involve a secluded death trap!"

Giggling with unashamed glee, Riley opened the door before Melody could hit the lock, and slipped out to see the structure in the free air. She inhaled deeply, getting the rich sent of woods combined with promise for the future. Something was starting, right here and now, she was certain of it. A bubble of laughter escaped from her throat as she ran around to the back of the car, retrieving her bags as quickly as she could so that she could stare more at her home for the next seventy-two hours. It all started here.

With a slight tug, Riley pulled her case behind her, turning back to smile at Melody who looked pensive from behind the wheel. "Thanks for the ride, I'll call you tonight!"

Rolling the electric powered window down, Melody risked exposure by poking her head out through the gap. "Are you sure you want me to leave you hear, Ri?" The brunette bit down onto her bottom lip gently. "I can't have abandoning you here to some inbred madman with a meat hook as a left hand on my conscious. What would I tell the police?" A more sobering through seemed to wash over her. "What would I tell your parents?"

"I'll be fine, I promise." Riley waved back at her friend, the rush of excitement and the thrill of anticipation blocking out any negative thoughts she may have been holding onto about her time at the camp. "You'll pick me up on Sunday night and we'll hit the halls Monday morning, 'cept I'll be an actual WWE talent."

Melody sighed, knowing she'd lost this one. "If you're sure. Please be careful, okay?" Riley's nod did little to calm her already jangling nerves. "Look after yourself, don't talk to strangers. Don't check out any strange noises and do not go walking in the woods all alone at night…or during the day. Always have your rape alarm handy and no funny business with the boys. Oh, and play nice with the other wannabe wrestlers. Make friends and have fun and stuff like that and go get that contract."

Riley chuckled at her friend. "Yes mom," she drawled, touching her fingertips to her lips before blowing a kiss, "drive safe and I'll call you later."

"You'd better," Melody half smiled back, knowing that Riley could take care of herself when it came down to it even if she felt like the worst friend in the world for leaving her here. "Love you!"

And with that, tires growled across dirt track as Melody span the car around and headed back up the road they had come down. Riley waved to the shrinking car, grinning as she heard multiple distinct blasts of the horn as her response. She kept watching until she could no longer see the silver convertible at all, and even the sound of the engine and crunch of the tires blended into the natural sounds of the woods around her.

She sighed gently, glad to have such a loyal best friend. Should anyone try to contact her, those that mattered thought she was staying with her best friend. Melody would deftly tell them she wasn't speaking to anyone at the moment should they call, and her mother was so heavily self-medicated that it wouldn't matter if they spoke to her. She would merely say yes to Riley staying at the house because as far as she knew, they two girls were playing out in the yard. The cover was perfect, giving her more than enough time to get through this stage and be back at home and ready for school before anyone found out that she was gone.

Turning on her heel, Riley started pulling her case along behind her. Thoughts rushed through her mind in quick succession, like what her first day would entail, what other prospective talents had made it through the initial rounds and just what WWE staff were on hand that could potentially recognise her. Her father was certainly out of the question, given his mission to get his wife back. That worked in Riley's favour, given her understanding of his level of involvement in scoping new talent. That didn't rule out everyone who knew her of course, and there were several key personnel who would think nothing upon recognising Randy Orton's daughter trying out for the company speed dialling him to rat on her. She could only hope that nobody she was close to was here this weekend, or even if they were aware of her, wouldn't recognise her for the duration.

Nervously, Riley double checked the wig that she had affixed on her head. It was jet black, hanging in straight waves to her mid back and softened by choppy bangs that met her eyebrows. Blue contacts shaded her eyes, whilst a pair of oversized sun glasses hopefully distracted attention away from her face, as did the deep red lip colour she'd applied. To the casual observer, she wouldn't be easily recognised and she hoped nobody else would look close enough to discover her.

Resuming her step, she came to a pause in what felt like a courtyard in front of the main building. A small set of steps parallel to the building lead up to the single steel door. Riley was wondering whether she should go and announce herself somewhere when the door flew open, and a beefy, greying man stormed out. He looked furious, and had the air of an ex-wrestler about him from his body type and the deep leather tone of his skin. Thankfully, Riley didn't recognise him although if he had any length of time with the company, he more than likely would have heard of her.

He wasn't looking for her, but the moment his eyes settled on Riley standing motionless in the middle of the open space his lip curled back into something resembling a smirk. "You must be _Dita_." The name sounded like an insult, the way he hurled it at her coloured in a thick southern drawl, but Riley stood tall.

"Guess I must be," she retorted, resting her weight on one leg as she gave him the once over wondering if he was responsible for keeping the place tidy or something. "And who must you be?"

"Mack," he replied, turning his head to spit something over the rail to the floor a meter or so below and scratching at his expanding stomach. "I'll be your head torturer, though some call me a trainer."

Oh great. This lump of misogynistic testosterone would have to be the guy in charge, wouldn't he? She had the sense already that he either had a personal dislike of her, or something against women in general. Riley had always loved a challenge, and she looked forward to proving him wrong. "I see. Am I the first to arrive?"

"Last," he grinned. "Better get shifting darlin', induction starts in ten minutes. Barracks are over there. Anyone who doesn't show gets cut." With his final revelation, he turned around again and headed back inside the large fading white building, the door slamming shut behind him. Already late it seemed, Riley stepped into action.

Heading over the building he'd indicated as the place she was staying, Riley stepped onto the porch and pulled the screen door open. The place looked like it had been built in the fifties and probably hadn't been used since then either, but this was no time to complain about the facilities. She had come here for a purpose and it wasn't to test out the hospitality of the area. Pulling the door open, Riley marched inside ready for whatever faced her.

Three sets of eyes swivelled on her all at once, two from the beds nearest and one who had just emerged from a door at the far end of the room. It was merely a long rectangle, three beds on either side covered in green sheets that looked like they'd been made from recycled potato sacks. The floor was comprised of rough wooden slats that were clearly part of the original building without a thought to covering them. Windows ran the length of the walls on either side, though none possessed a curtain and looked as though they weren't used to being opened. The two beds nearest the door were devoid of mattresses, and only one remained unclaimed, despite the girl on the bed next to it arranging her things across it. The sight of the sleeping quarters was a little underwhelming, but then why should she have expected anything better than prison level facilities. They wanted to root out the weak ones and this was probably an effective method. Resolving to make it work, Riley took a better look at her three 'roommates'.

"Thought you weren't coming," said the woman nearest to her. She was African-American, with bleach blonde hair that had been shaved incredibly close to her head, making Riley wonder just how it had that colour locked in at all. "You must be Dita." Riley went to correct her, forgetting for a moment that she was undercover. Instead, she gave a brief nod as she mentally roared at herself for nearly giving the game away. "That's Frankie," she said in reference to a dark haired girl who sat on the bed, arranging her things across what Riley assumed was to be her bed. "Over there is Sunday." Riley followed the direction of the woman's arm to see a stunning redhead who stood at the door at the back of the room. She was every inch a Jessica Rabbit lookalike, with curves in all the right places and a mane of copper hair that hung almost down to her waist. "And I'm Gracie." The woman who had addressed Riley reminded her of an Amazon given her tall, powerful stature and impressive beauty. She may have won her spot at this weekend by beating the son of a wrestler, but Riley felt deeply inadequate in the presence of these women.

"Pleasure to meet you, ladies." Riley said by way of greeting, and headed down the centre of the room. She was fully aware of the eyes that watched her, but refused to be intimidated. These women were the competition, and she wouldn't be psyched out this early in the game.

She came to a pause at the edge of her bed, watching as Frankie arranged a few pairs of boots. "Frankie, right?" She got no response from the girl with her hair cut into a harsh bob who continued to order her things. Unperturbed, Riley pressed the issue. "I think that's my bed. You mind shifting your stuff out of the way, please?"

Frankie clearly heard that, from the way she paused, simultaneously turning her head to face Riley and standing up to her full height. She had an inch or two on Riley, not that sized mattered. "Who says it's your bed?"

There was an accent to the woman, something European that she couldn't quite place. "Simple math," came Riley's deadpan reply. "Four beds, four girls, one for each of us. You see where I'm going with this?"

"I see where my fist is going to end up if you don't stop disrespecting me." There was a threatening tone in Frankie's voice, and Riley knew she was being challenged. It wasn't just by Frankie of course, as she knew Sunday and Gracie were watching to see how she would react to being squared up to.

Deliberately slowly, Riley pulled her sunglasses of her face and tucked one arm in the front pocket of her jeans so the rested flush against her thigh. "I'm not going to ask you again. Either you move it or I'm going to move it for you."

The tension was unbearable, Riley genuinely unsure whether this was going to descend into a brawl or if she was going to have to move all the crap herself. Finally air seemed to rush back into the room as Frankie sneered, muttered something in a language Riley wasn't familiar and scooped her things off the bed and dumped them onto her own.

"Thank you," Riley curtly added before lifting her case and placing it on her bed. There wouldn't be any time to go through it and unpack as she was due in the main building in less than five minutes. If the other women were aware of this fact, they certainly didn't show it as none of them looked particularly interested in making a move. She wasn't going to rush them along however, so once her case was settled on her bed, Riley simply turned and headed back for the way she had come.

As she stepped outside, Riley realised she may have just made herself an enemy, but she felt it was important to let everyone in the room know she meant business. Any sign of weakness would make her target she knew because they were all after the same thing and would likely as her do anything they physically could to get it. Professional wrestling wasn't a business of friends, particularly at this stage of their prospective careers. If Riley was going to make it, it would be on her own and in spite of everyone else.

Her foot had barely stepped off the porch when a masculine voice behind her made her pause. "There you are, Orton." She wasn't sure if it was the surprise of a man's voice, or that it was using her actual name, but she stumbled forward, nearly going face first into the ground as she came off the step. Riley whirled around, only to be confronted with the smirk of Ramsey McMahon-Helmsley. "I was wondering when you were going to show up." He was leaning against the outside of the building, looking every inch a sex god in a loose fitting pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt that hugged the muscular torso beneath. His head had been completely shaved, removing the blonde spikes he'd been sporting before. Maybe it was his attempt at going under the radar, but it certainly gave him an appealing, bad boy edge. Ramsey leant forward, voice dropping into a stage whisper. "I was hoping you'd chickened out and weren't going to turn up."

Riley rolled her eyes. "You should be so lucky." This was clearly how it was going to be, them antagonising each other until one of them presumably snapped. They both had enough dirt on the other to take them down, but of course it couldn't be done without sacrificing themselves as well. It was an odd, infuriating stalemate that she could most definitely do without. "Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. McMahon-Helmsley, I'm going to be late." Turning on her heel, Riley stomped off towards the main building.

Ramsey's grin only spread wider as he immediately pushed off the side of the building. He clearly wasn't going to be easily discouraged, as he caught up to her and fell in step at Riley's side. "You know it's going to be a tough week, right?" he said with a broad smile. "I'm going to make it my mission to make yours as miserable as possible. Nobody would think any less of you if you pulled out now. It's quite an achievement to make it that far. "

"Aren't you a gentleman," she snapped, rounding the bottom of the stairs and charging up them. "And I'd hardly call beating you an achievement." That obviously hit the mark as Ramsey's smile fell immediately. "If you're that determined to make my life difficult I suggest you take a number and get in line buddy, because you're definitely not the only one."

Ramsey chuckled, taking two steps at a time so that he was at the door before her. At first she thought he was going to block her entry. Instead Ramsey pulled the handle down, and tugged the door open, waving Riley through with his hand. "See? Gentleman." Riley could easily have punched him between his eyes but restrained herself, stepping through the doorway. "What's the matter, not making friends with the girls?"

The blonde ignored the question, absentmindedly making sure her wig was still on straight as she stared at the scene before her. It was like a page out of the history books, a dusty old ring set up in the middle of an empty, metallic warehouse. A few mats were around the outside, as were several chairs that were hap hazardly scattered around. Aside from a primitive medical station against the far wall, the room was Spartan and something out of the wrestling days of eras gone by. It was perfect, a grim and dingy backwater hole that Riley could say she'd started in. No expensive Titan Tron, no pyrotechnics or amazing lighting displays with state of the art technology beaming her face into television sets all around the world. Just the old, stiff squared circle and enough determination to make it to the big leagues. Riley's only wish was to have someone other than Ramsey McMahon-Helmsley to share her first sight with, but you couldn't have everything.

Apparently, he wasn't giving up on his line of questioning either. "I hear girls breaking into the business are brutal. Better make sure you start making friends soon, kid. Be easier if at least one person liked you with what's coming up. Say, I spotted a redhead arriving earlier. You think you could get me her number?"

Riley immediately thought of the silent Sunday hanging at the end of the room and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Boys were so utterly predictable. "Stay away from me." Riley didn't give him a chance to respond, instead she walked toward the ring. She held her hand out, sliding it carefully across the ring apron and feeling the rough material. This was what wrestling was meant to be about, the thrill of competition and the screaming crowds cheering you on. The old days were way before even her parent's time, but that still didn't mean Riley wasn't intimately familiar with her grandfather Orton's story of life on the road before wrestling had become the giant that it was.

So lost was she in the memories of stories at her grandfather's knee that she didn't spot Mack strolling up to her until it was too late. "Straightening the place up, are ya darlin'?" There was definitely no amusement on his face as he watched her.

Riley head snapped up, instinctively taking a step back as though she had be caught somewhere she knew she shouldn't have been. "No, just getting a feel for the place."

"Oh yeah? Well why don't you back the hell up and take your place with the rest of the meat, okay?" He indicated behind her with a nod of his head before painfully pulling himself up onto the ring apron. Clearly he'd worked a lot during his career, if the way he stiffly moved had anything to say about it. She only wished she knew what character he'd been during his wrestling days.

Turning back around Riley flinched as she saw Gracie, Frankie and Sunday all gathered in behind her, apparently amused at her moment with the ring apron. Behind them, three other men were making their way into the building. Two were thickly corded with muscles whilst the other was leaner but looked even more menacing. So these seven were her completion then, the other people who'd been successful at their try outs to make it this far. She noted how nobody really stood in a group, each preferring their own space knowing as she did that they were all in contention for the same prize. Riley found a space a little away from the rest of the girls, leaving her on the far right. She watched as Mack leant onto the top rope, and addressed the crowd of hopefuls with an almost blood thirsty leer.

"Congratulations kids." His booming southern drawl seemed to fill the space three times over. "You all made it through the try out stages and are trying to get yourselves a shot at the training roster. Good luck to ya. There ain't a lot of spots open, and maybe none of you got what it takes to get there. We're gonna find out this weekend just which ones of you can make it. By Sunday evening, half of you will be sent packing, and half of you will make it to a subsidiary of FCW. At that point, it's a free for all. Only two spots open so you're gonna have to be ruthless because each and every one of you wants the same thing. 'Course, you gotta get past me first."

Riley couldn't help but swallow heavily. Somehow that didn't sound like anything she wanted to attempt. Now her dream of making it to the training roster seemed a good deal further away that it did this morning.

"Welcome to hell. This facility is maintained by the WWE and is a starting block for you all. Water pressure is shitty and the big generator box outside has a habit of burning out. But that's the least of your worries. Tonight," Mack continued, "we're gonna break you in gently. Let you get a feel for the ring and your competition as we go over the basics. Tomorrow is going to be a hell worse than you've ever imagined. I'm gonna push you to your limits, and won't stop until I've broken each and every one of you. You think you know exhaustion? You shits don't even know the meaning of the word but you'll be begging for mercy by the time that old Mack's through with you."

His grin was wolfish, and Riley felt the mood of the people gathered definitely going south. Mack seemed like the sort of creep that would get off on pain, and she couldn't even imagine just what terror he had in store for them. Half of her wondered just how far home Melody was and if she'd consider turning around to come and pick her back up again.

"And on Sunday? I'm gonna scrape what's left of you up from the floor and put you through a series of matches with each other to determine just who is gonna make to the next stage. You've got two whole days and one night to impress me. If you want to make it to the next round, you gotta give me all you got every minute that you're here or I'll cut you like that." He snapped his fingers to make his point. "Make no mistake kids, this weekend will be the most brutal of your lives and if you can't make it here, you sure as hell don't belong in the company. Any questions? Good."

Nobody had a chance to ask any given the speed of his follow up. "Now we talk about the rules. They're simple. Follow them, and I won't be forced to stamp on your goddamn heads. First rule is the obvious one. Do as I say, when I say. Disobey or disrespect me and I guarantee you'll regret it. Secondly, alcohol, cigarettes and non-prescription drugs are illegal. I catch any of you sparking up, cracking a bottle open or smoking some shit, the consequences don't bare thinking about. And rule number three. No fucking around. That means you keep it in your pants at all times fellas. Ladies, you get the urge to climb on one of these boys then be prepared to call a cab back home because I don't stand for it. Any questions? Good."

Again, no time to ask questions, as Riley's head span from the three simple yet brutal rules thrown her way. Not that she was planning to go against any of them but she couldn't deny how uneasy she now fell, as though she could be kicked out on a technicality even if she was the best wrestler present.

"Go get yourselves changed kids. First lesson starts in fifteen. Better stick your ice packs in now because it's gonna be rough." With that, he turned his back on the gathered group and headed for the back of the facility.

Riley found herself in fight or flight mode, and really wasn't sure if this was what she wanted anymore. She wanted to become a Diva so badly, but what Mack was proposing seemed more terrifying than anything she had ever conceived of. The silence among the eight gathered recruits was deafening, each lost in their private thoughts as to what they might encounter during the weekend. Nobody said anything, as in turn they headed back outside, presumably to prepare for what was to come next. Riley was the last to leave, chewing on her bottom lip nervously as she stepped back out into the sunlight.

She froze at the top of the stairs, unable to take in the sight before her. On top of the roof of the dormitories where the girls were housed appeared to be her case. It was wide open, with only a few things remaining inside it. Worse still, scattered all around it from the roof to the porch and even the trees behind the dormitory were all her things. Ramsey and his little band of Neanderthals were taking great pleasure in posing with one of her bras that they had rescued from the dirt path. Raw fury burned in her veins as she knew exactly who was responsible for this. The only question left was how badly she would hurt them once she got her hands on the little witch in the ring.

Riley stormed down the steps, running at full pelt towards the men who were poking around the porch and an assortment of other items. Riley pounced on Ramsey, shoving him up against the wall and snatching one of her more revealing thongs out of his paws. "Keep your filthy hands off my stuff!" She turned an acidic glare on the other men who shut up laughing immediately. Instead they slunk off back to their sleeping quarters, guffawing and giggling like school boys as they because they'd seen panties . What a great first impression that must have left.

Bending down to scoop up her stuff, Riley pretended that she hadn't seen the smirk on Ramsey's face as she released him from the wall. Why oh why couldn't he just crawl into a hole somewhere and die. Was that really just too much to ask? "You want a hand there, Dita?"

"Go play in the traffic!" Riley roared in response, stomping off the porch with a pile of her clothing under her arm as she began snatching her various items out of the branches in the tree and retrieving multiple cosmetic items from the ground.

"Okay sweetheart, suit yourself. Love your taste in lingerie, though." With a nerve grating chuckle, Ramsey vaulted over the banister of the porch and jogged out of sight, his laughter echoing mockingly in Riley's ears as she was left alone.

As she picked through the undergrowth for her makeup and various other necessities, Riley realised a few were damaged and more than one ruined beyond repair. Some of them had cost her a hell of a lot of money and wouldn't easily be replaced either. Even if they had been drugstore variety, the sheer audacity of that woman to riffle through her things in this manner had Riley fuming. Each newly saved garment or item that was added to the pile made Riley even angrier, to the point of shaking hands. She could feel a familiar Orton meltdown brewing and knew that it really wasn't going to be pretty. In the end, she went with what she had and barged back into the sleeping quarters, determined to retrieve the rest of her stuff later and making a line directly for Frankie who sat quite calmly on her bed, lacing up her boots.

Slinging her collected things down onto her bed, Riley whirled around to face Frankie. "What the hell did you do to my stuff?" She demanded, noticing Gracie and Sunday looking toward her from their beds. Clearly they were just as bad having done nothing to prevent Frankie from ransacking her belongings. She might have known where she stood with the other women now, but that didn't make Riley any less angry. Selfish, conniving bitches!

"Your case was in my way," Frankie calmly replied in her clipped European tones, carefully lacing her boots one hole at a time and making Riley wait on her every word, "so I moved it."

"By emptying it and slinging it on the roof? Have you actually gone insane?" Riley bellowed, feeling the red mist descending in front of her very eyes. Her father had always told he about his temper tantrums back in the day. He'd been known to go off into the deep end at a look much less vandalism like this, so she felt as though she were channelling the Orton family charm. _Daddy would be so proud,_ she mused.

"Maybe next time you'll be more careful who you go ordering around." Tying up the lace at the top of her boots, Frankie merely smiled a shit eating smirk, like she'd gotten one over on her competion. Riley saw nothing else and the next thing she knew she was on top of the other woman, landing strike after slap after punch across her face. Frankie shrieked beneath her, trying in vain to throw Riley off but was not getting very far. Riley had a death grip, and seemed intent on ripping the woman's face off. In the end it took both Sunday and Gracie pulling Riley back to end the brawl.

"You crazy bitch!" Frankie screeched, holding her hand to her eye that looked like it was going to develop a real shiner. Not that Riley felt she deserved any less. "I'm going to kick your scrawny little ass!"

"Not if I rip your stupid head from your man shoulders first!" Riley screamed back, straining at the restraints that Sunday and Gracie had placed on her. "You're lucky these two stopped me because I'm gonna shove your head up your own ass!"

"The fuck is all this about?!" Mack demanded from the doorway, clearly unamused as he surveyed the scene before him. From his position, Riley knew she looked like the aggressor from the way she was being held back whilst Frankie carefully held her eye. Not that it mattered, she would quite happily continued pounding on the European skank in full sight of the trainer or not. Frankie was so far over the line with what she'd done the line was a goddamn dot.

"Cat fight," Gracie said simply, as though it was merely a case of two teenage High School girls slapping each other over a football player boyfriend. "Lil' Dita here has taken a bit of dislike to Frankie and decided to make her pay with a black eye." That clearly wasn't the whole story but Riley was too angry to explain further, mentally storing Gracie's bias away for another temper explosion.

"You trying to get on my bad side, Dita?" Mack growled, narrowing his eyes at her. "'Cos you're going the right way about it. If you can't share a fucking room then I'll stick you in with the hogs."

"Maybe you should," Riley countered, in turn glaring at Frankie. So what if she got the blame for this, it would be worth it just to slap that stupid look off of Frankie's face. "Because if I'm left alone with this moron I will not be held responsible for what I do to her!"

All four women broken down into a shrieking argument, all shouting at one another in turn and Sunday having to release Riley in order to hold Frankie back from charging. The room was clearly a powder keg and was not going to work in its current set up, not least because Riley wanted to deliver three RKO's in quick succession to everyone that possessed a vagina.

"Enough!" Mack roared, stomping in the room to grab Riley by the arm and drag her outside. Pulled out onto the porch and down onto the dirt courtyard, she brushed her hair back from her face in an effort to cool down as Mack released her. "You better cool your heels missy or I will cut your ass from this weekend right now."

"Look at my case, Mack. Look at it!" Riley's arm pointed to the roof where her suitcase remained and several of her belonging were still scattered. The indignity of having to collect her underwear still very fresh in her mind, she couldn't begin to modulate her voice into calmer tones. "She threw my stuff everywhere and is impossible to be around. Just give me ten minutes in the ring with her and I assure you she won't mess with me again."

To Riley's utter surprise, Mack started laughing, a deep hacking sound that rumbled out from the pit of his chest. He was clearly amused from the way he belly laughed for a good minute. "You are a fire cracker, aren't you Dita? Sal wasn't wrong when he said you'd be a nightmare to work with." Riley had no idea who Sal was, not that it mattered. There was nothing funny in this that she could see. "Still, I like your temper. Just get your shit together and get in the ring. You can stay in the barn tonight so at least I know you and Frankie won't end up slaughtering each other."

He left Riley alone in the middle of the courtyard then as he made his way back inside, still laughing away to himself. Riley could only stand there scowling, wishing she had something to punch or kick until she felt better. It wouldn't be the healthiest expression of anger, but she worked with what she had. Whatever this Frankie girl's problem was, the only acceptable answer was to beat it out of her which she had absolutely no problem doing. And if anybody else wanted to have a little bit of fun at her expense, Riley would gladly take them all on as well.

As far as first days went, this one royally sucked. The story she had planned on telling people when she was further in her career about her early days and hard grafting to make a name for herself was marred by a sadistic trainer a bunch of girls she couldn't stand to look at.

Feeling fired up and fully annoyed, Riley marched back toward the building where the ring was housed, muttering to herself about how she would take every single other person here on and win no matter who they were and what talent they had. Unluckily for them, they had no idea who they were dealing with, but it would be a total pleasure for Riley to make it clear to them. If they thought _Dita_ was going to be someone they could easily pick on or push around, they were about to find out how much of an obstacle her creator, _Riley Orton_, could be.


End file.
